My book is out in the world. What a crazy thing to be able to say.

When I hit submit on my NetGalley submission, a wave of excitement and fear ran through my body, equally distributed, and dually affecting. I hit that button, looked around, and asked myself, “what now”? Well, the answer was, “wait”, of course, but waiting has never been my strong suit.

So, I went over to my Goodreads account, and started to put out the word. Within the first few hours I had received over 40 requests for an advanced copy of my book. I was floored, but also wasn’t sure if this was typical or not. As I started to go through the requests, they were of mixed quality, some legit, and some sketchy. I, of course, approved all the legit requests. It was very interesting to see the NetGalley experience from the other side, and every time I hit decline, a pang of guilt ran through me. I want everyone to be able to read my book, but some of these requests either seemed spammy, or were from people who were all too critical for my sensitive ego.

The next day, the requests continued to trickle in. As of today, I have approved 46 and declined 17.

Two days later, I was going about my Court business when I received an email that I had received feedback on my book. I stared at the email for a few minutes, too scared to actually open it, but eventually worked up the courage. Five stars! “A hauntingly beautiful and deeply atmospheric read.”

Tears literally formed in my eyes. Years of planning, fits and starts, and hard work had come down to this. I had actually touched somebody’s life, and that feeling was indescribable. I can see why people chase this, but I can also see why it would be devastating to hear negative feedback.

Later that day, I received another email. This time I looked at it with a little more bravado, feeling myself a little more. 3.5 stars. Hmmm, not bad. I’ll take it. This one included a little more productive feedback, which I took to heart. Characters’ voices need to feel more distinct. The ending left them yearning for answers (me too, but that was kind of the point). I can live with this. If I got nothing but 3.5 star reviews, it wouldn’t be perfect, but I’d take it. I’m striving for a 4 star average, but this is my debut novel after all. Who do I think I am?

I haven’t received any reviews since those two, but I am sitting here anxiously anticipating more. The fragility of an author’s ego waits anxiously in the balance.