Sometimes I have to remind myself, with all the problems going on in the world, that I accomplished something extraordinary this year. I published my book, The Promise, on January 4, 2020. That’s nine months exactly as of this day.
I tried taking advantage of all the hours the pandemic opened up for me as we became homebound for months. I dove into learning what the best marketing strategies worked for me. It was expensive, all-consuming, overwhelming, and definitely not worth the work or pay off for me in the end.
As I was sharing this with a friend, she reminded me to think back of why I published it in the first place. I had no grand ideas of what it would become. I just wanted to have my story put into a book so that I could give a copy to each of my kids. My friend said to me; you have by far exceeded any expectations you ever had for your book. Look what it’s become.
In this time, I have also gotten to know many other authors. One of the things I hear so many of them say is that the real rewards are not from the money you get for your book. It comes from the feedback of our readers that tells us that all our hard work made a difference in someone else life.
I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to read my book and sharing all your wonderful reviews and thoughts. I am humbled by your giving hearts!
What a great title for a book, The Shiver. I still get the same kind of shiver from time to time that I talk about at the beginning of my story, The Promise. They are not brought on by the same traumatic experiences of my childhood. Instead, they are brought on by the familiar circumstances that surrounded that time in my life. It could be as simple as an old song, a smell, or the situations I find myself experiencing all over again.
One of those familiarities is the racial tension we are experiencing again. It takes me right back into the halls of Stenton child center and Germantown High school where I, a white girl, found myself on the other side of the issue. Racism goes both ways, and it begins with what we are taught to believe and is reinforced by what we experience for ourselves. While I experienced what it was like to be a minority, it felt as if I was a goldfish in a tank full of black mollies. I feared they might eat me alive. The shiver comes from fear and a constant effort to survive.
However, there was a time during my stay at Stenton when we no longer saw ourselves as diffèrent. It didn’t matter what color our skin was, we shared the commonality of the situation we found ourselves in. We were kids who had been abandon by our parents. It was what we felt underneath our skin that brought us together. If we could keep all the painful outside influences away from what brought us together we found harmony in each other. How easy those outside influences can make us forget the sacredness that brings us together, and helps us see ourselves in each other.
While all the familiarity congers up painful memories for me, it also reminds me how far I have come, the lessons I’ve learned along the way, and who I have become as a result of it. If I don’t let myself learn from the worst of things I’ve experienced than everything I’ve gone through is for nothing, and all I’d be left with is an empty promise.