Publishing the Book no one Asked for but Kept You Going

A haunted motel in the middle of the desert. A lonely traveler with her car pulls into the parking lot and a sense of destiny looms in the night. Meeting a mysterious photographer looking for his brother who went missing when looking for stars and aliens, what will happen to the misfits of the motel?

I know their fate, their hearts and the written words about them. I wrote them. No one knows but me. Why? I left them in a drawer because I was too much of a coward letting them tell their story.

Still, they keep whispering to me, what about us? Why did you create us at all?

They are right. Perhaps they deserve the chance to live. And perhaps your shelved stories you have been too afraid to show deserves too? Perhaps 2025 is the year they will? Perhaps this will happen at Vocal?

Publishing a Book No One Asked For

There's a peculiar kind of vulnerability that comes with finishing a book you never thought anyone would want to read. You have toiled away for ages, years even, not really seeing the end of the project. Now it is done, the story complete. You start editing until you don't know anymore. Is it it? Is it done?

No one asked for the book, perhaps it was even written in secret and now the fear is starting to kick in. Even Nobel Prize writers are gathering dust on your bookshelf, unread. Why would anyone read yours?

Writing something often feel like baring a part of your soul, a quiet corner of your mind, and then contemplating whether to let the world see it. At times there is a certain comfort in the thought that no one is watching, no one cares what you do. So why not bare it all and let it out, even though there is no one there to witness is but you.

Wrestling with Self-Doubt

The first hurdle is often the loud, persistent voice of self-doubt. "Why would anyone care about this?" "Is it even good enough?" These questions echo in the mind, making you question the worth of your words. You are still in the writing limbo of it being good or not. This limbo can sometimes be more comfortable than sharing it. Because if you don't share it, no one can reject it.

Let us get one thing out of the way: The opinions of others was not why you started writing, it's not why you continue, year after year, even when no one is reading a single word.

You wrote it all for you anyway. Find back to that feeling, find back to why you started in the first place.

So I'm retracing my steps to the days spent in the park jotting down notes, nights spent up dreaming up conversations. Not only will this be a test of me publishing a full length novel, but it will be a test of me just being unapologetically me. Taking up a space I usually feel bad about.

The Emotional Tug-of-War

Deciding to publish feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. There's excitement, yes, but also a profound fear of what lies beyond. The thought of exposing your innermost thoughts to strangers can be terrifying. Yet, there's also a quiet thrill in imagining your words resonating with someone out there, someone who might find comfort, inspiration, or even a sense of companionship in your story.

The only thing I have to argue with myself about is the care you gave the words. There are already plenty of pieces out there that no one proofread, that really needed developing more. This is not the call to publish your first drafts of everything you ever wrote. This is for the silent diamonds in your drawer. The ones you gave it all, not knowing what more to do with. Perhaps the community of writers like the one at Vocal is the perfect place to have as the first readers? Perhaps this year is the year you feel brave enough?

The Act of Letting Go

For me, the turning point came when I realized that the fear of staying hidden was greater than the fear of being seen. The idea of my book gathering dust, unread and unloved, was far more painful than the prospect of criticism or indifference. This realization was liberating.

It's also something freeing in accepting mediocrity. So what if it's not the most groundbreaking piece of writing that ever existed, but perhaps, it's good enough to exist at all.

Think of the books and characters as your friends. You love them dearly and would love to introduce them to the world. If the world is uninterested, that's ok too, because at least they have you.

Publishing is an act of letting go, about releasing your creation into the world, knowing that its reception is beyond your control. This surrender is both terrifying and exhilarating. It requires a leap of faith, trusting that your work will find its audience, however small or large that might be.

The Joy of Sharing

Despite the fears, there's an undeniable joy in sharing your book with the world. The first time someone reads your work and connects with it, all the doubts and fears seem to fade. That connection, however fleeting, is a reminder of why you started this journey in the first place.

Publishing the book you thought no one would ever want to read is an act of bravery. It's about trusting in your voice and believing in the power of your story. Most importantly, it's about honoring the journey you've undertaken, from the first word to the final page. Finishing a novel is no small feat, most people who starts it, fails before the finishing line. I have already finished a marathon, huzzah to myself for that.

So, take the leap. Embrace the fear, the excitement, and the vulnerability. I will do so, and hopefully there will be people with me on the journey as the chapters will unfold one by one and the story no one asked for will be told.