Skip to main content

Confessions of a First Time Author


I’ll admit it. I feel a bit overwhelmed by the whole “market yourself as a writer thing.”

I’ve nervously watched as my ratings on Amazon climbed up and then rocketed down again. I’ve nervously anticipated my first book reviews, hoping they would be positive or at least fair. I’ve rejoiced with each endorsement and celebrated each tweet.

As a first-time author, I've learned that launching a book requires hard work – and you put excessive amounts of time and energy into writing letters and leveraging every bit of public access you have. One author told me that the work only begins when the book is published. It’s so true. The first part is the writing, the second part is this steep-to-climb Mount Kilimanjaro of marketing.

Then it hits you. Or, at least, it hit me. I was in danger of becoming completely and utterly self-obsessed.

When I started to write this book, I was following a single story. It was the story of a woman who wanted to serve God with her life. Her desire was mine as well. I wanted to focus on these brave, historic, world-changing women. I wanted my identity to disappear in the face of God’s obedience and their examples.

And yet here I was, being thrust into the spotlight.That role is uncomfortable for me as an introvert.The hardest part of being an author is knowing when to push forward and when to sit back. You have to engage in publicity. In modern publishing, slim marketing budgets demand it.

True. But - here's the rub - it is easy to equate your self-worth, your value, with the success of the book.

So, I prayed last night. I asked God to take this pressure from me – all of it. I asked Him to keep me humble and focused on the message, not on my own glory. I asked Him to do with this book what He wants. If I have any desire, it is that my message encourages just one person, one reader, who needs to hear it.

On my afternoon walk down Michigan Avenue, I was processing all of these thoughts. Three phrases came repeatedly to my mind: For Him, About Him, Through Him. They were so clear that they became almost like a chant. For Him, About Him, Through Him. For Him, About Him, Through Him.

These three desires express what is on my heart:

FOR HIM: I want to write for God – not for myself. I want the glory to be His alone.

ABOUT HIM: I want my words (every tweet, every email, every interview) to be about God's purpose, not about me

THROUGH HIM: I want to do this through Him, because if I do it myself, I will only be exhausted. It is too hard.

For Him, About Him, Through Him...

This applies not just my writing, but also to every goal in my life, and also to your life. Whatever you are doing, do it with all of your heart. But open it up and give it fully to God. Let him take the glory, but also take the burden. It is far too heavy to carry it alone.

"Take my life and let it be, fully consecrated unto thee."

Comments

Anonymous said…
Well this one person needed that. And your book will keep inspiring and God will increase its reach in ways that social media and sales stats can never measure.
Unknown said…
Loved this. Love your book. Love your heart. Thank you for being you.
Jamie Janosz said…
Thank you both. Friends have kept me so grounded and encouraged. And, I've been truly humbled by the letters from those who did need to hear.

Popular posts from this blog

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best

I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute. She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps. But I didn't really know much about her. As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up . I learned a bit more about her remarkable life: She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves. From an early age, she hungered for education. She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race. Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University. She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many ...

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side.   They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets.   The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night.   As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay a...

My Life as a Cosplay Mom

Cosplay?! What's that? When I tell people that my teenage daughter loves to cosplay, they often have no idea what I'm talking about. About five years ago, my daughter created her first costume to attend a cosplay convention. What I quickly learned is that her love for "cosplay" (defined as costume play) would definitely involve her mom! Together, we have made countless trips to the fabric and craft store as I learned to sew, trace, and glue, create patterns from scratch, and apply stage make-up. In the photo to the left, you can see my husband and I, with our daughter, in full Pokemon cosplay. Attending ACEN (Anime Central) at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont, IL, two mild-mannered parents were instantly transformed into Team Magma. Our daughter had full design control, helping me create our group costume. Apparently we did it right, because the moment we entered the conference center, we were stopped for photos. Milt and I had to fake i...