3 BIG LESSONS OF 2024

In 2024, I took the biggest step on my author journey and published my first novel, Echoes of the Forgotten. This decision was not made believing I would have any more than a handful of sales, mostly from people who know me, but it has since become clear that it was the first step on a journey that has no end currently in sight. The journey so far as not been without hurdles and mistakes. As I approach the first anniversary of becoming published next month, I've found myself reflecting on the lessons I have learnt so far.

Lesson 1: "I can do it" vs "I Will do it".

I'd published Echoes because I couldn't let go of it after failing to receive any kind of response when seeking traditional publishing, and I remained incredibly proud of the story. I wanted it to be read, and I hoped it would be enjoyed.

The response from early readers was incredible and made me feel as though maybe I was actually good enough at this after all. Over the first few months, my confidence as a creative grew more than it ever had. And that was where the first lesson arose.

I started the first draft of a new novel, which I planned to be book 3, after the serial killer thriller I written 3-4 drafts of at the time of publishing Echoes (that thriller has since been published as Beneath the Stains of Time to its own fantastic reviews.) This was the first time I started a project with the confidence to think 'I can do this.' Like most creatives, the start of a project is often filled with nerves, excitement, and a lot of doubts. Writing both Echoes and Stains felt like I was proving something to myself and, I think, because of that, were written as strongly as I could write them. But I didn't feel like I was trying to prove anything with this new project.

The new story started to flow, and words came quickly in the beginning. And then they started to slow, and things became harder and harder. More and more, as I tried to continue, I realised so much of what I'd written didn't work or wasn't interesting. I'd outlined the story confidently, only to realise I had neglected the twisty, weirder direction the idea should have gone. Instead, I'd plotted a run-of-the-mill thriller than even I didn't find interesting anymore. I'd done what all creatives are told not to do: I had stuck firmly in the comfort zone. Because I wasn't trying to prove anything to myself anymore, I wasn't trying to silence any inner doubts - I couldn't hear the doubts - and because of that, I wasn't pushing myself to write something great.

That story was put aside, unfinished, in despair. And it wasn't clear to me for a long time why I was unable to finish it. At the time, I thought it was because I was becoming too busy. But that was an excuse to keep me from self deprecation. I won't make that same mistake again, with my latest project, or when I return to that idea and start over.

No more over-confidence. Instead of thinking 'I can do it.' I needed to go back to thinking, 'I will do it', defiantly pushing for something I didn't know if I could do.

It is only when we strive for something we're not 100% certain we can achieve that we can accomplish something great.

Lesson 2: Too Many Plates

Just because it was an excuse to keep me from being self-deprecating when I put aside my 80% complete first draft, didn't mean I wasn't becoming really busy. I have a tendency when I have a goal, to sink my teeth into it and not let go until I get it. As my first draft was failing, I was compiling other goals I wanted to achieve and I made the mistake of piling one on top of the other. All of them would require me to go 'all in', and they'd require that at the same time.

I started editing Beneath the Stains of Time while still struggling to finish my first draft project. At the same time, the recording of the audiobook for Echoes of the Forgotten had started and I had more and more chapters ready to be listened to with each passing day. I'd filled up my evenings with trying to write two projects, so I started listening to chapters of the audiobook over breakfast before work each morning.

My fitness couldn't take a backseat either, because I was training for a half-marathon with a goal time in mind, and trying to maintain muscle-mass with regular weightlifting. And all while trying to still spend time with my wife. At the busiest point, in August, I was weightlifting two to three nights a week, running three days a week, and writing almost every day, along with working my regular 9-5, that had taken on its own extra stresses. I wasn't willing to admit it at the time, but I was flirting dangerously with burnout. But I was determined not to fail at any of these goals, the way I'd just given up on that first draft project.

I achieved everything I set out to over the summer and autumn, but it came at a mental cost. I was often tired, so mentally drained that I got home from work sometimes and couldn't face the thought of sitting in front of my computer, or reading a book. One night, my eyesight turned blurry because I'd given myself eye strain from the hours of focusing both at work and at home. I even had to cancel a scheduled podcast appearance because I didn't feel I mentally capable of it.

I finally finished the last of these goals when I published Stains on November 30th (which came with its own headaches) and I considered taking December off to recover. My break lasted about a week, but I started a new project with the determination that I would be more careful with just how much I take on at once in the future.

Lesson 3: Reach Not Exceeding Grasp

According to Robert Browning 'A man's reach should exceed his grasp.'

Words I agree with, which effectively means you should reach for things that seem too far for you to grasp, and perhaps words I was following when it came to all the goals I'd taken on at once, but not when it came to my efforts to market and gain visibility for my first book. In that area, my reach was most definitely not exceeding my grasp.

I spent most of my first year as a published author trying to make do with social media (almost exclusively IG) as my primary platform of finding new readers and getting visibility for Echoes, and I managed to find some, and made some great author friends on there too. But I fumbled my way through inconsistent posting, and struggled against the ever changing algorithms of the platform which has been limiting visibility. At this moment, each of my posts averages a reach of a little over a hundred people, sometimes entirely made up of followers, and other times, almost entirely non-followers with a handful of followers able to see it on their feeds.

Everything I've read and many of the author friends I've made have advocate focusing on a newsletter. But I remained reluctant to start one. It sounded like extra work and I clearly didn't need any more plates to keep spinning. But this is certainly an issue in which I have limited my reach, keeping it firmly and comfortably within my grasp. By the time I published Stains, I had already suffered with one instance of staying within my comfort zone, and I was doing it again when it came to marketing and building a community of readers and fans.

A newsletter and a website, even this blog, were something new and that means it's something definitely outside of my comfort zone, which is where I needed to be. And so, I put some work into the measly website I'd put together months prior, set up the newsletter, and started a blog.

Looking Forward:

The road has not been smooth since the starting of this journey back in January and it won't be smooth as I continue onward, but if there's anything these lessons have taught me, it's that I shouldn't want it to be. I'll make more mistakes, learn more lessons. Without mistakes, there's no improvement. Without improvement, I can't provide the best books I can for you readers.