For Years, I Tiptoed Around My Dream of Writing and Publishing a Book As If It Were Someone Else’s Dream

Until three years ago.

Last month, I finished writing my debut book I’ve been working on for the past three years. The printed-out manuscript I held felt heavy in my hands. I couldn’t believe I have actually done it, finished a book I started years ago. I talked about writing a book for years, but I never really got to doing the work. I tiptoed around my dream of writing and publishing a book as if it were someone else’s dream. I built an imaginary house for this dream in my mind. I talked about this imaginary house with friends, for years. I talked about what I wanted out of this dream—I wanted to be a published Ethiopian book author, I wanted to give voice to the marginalized, and I wanted to be published in the United States, Canada, or the UK. I talked about this while tiptoeing in the corners of the room, admiring my dream, what it would be like to be a published book author, without once entering the room and doing the required work, until three years ago when I entered and walked to the center of the room—and began writing my book. Beta readers I trust would give me honest feedback have read my book, which is a short story collection. One editor I respect has given me constructive feedback. My book has gone through several revisions and I have made it as good as I can make it. To publish a book, especially a short story collection, is hard and I know the market is very stiff but I’m not going to curl around the corner, scared my book will never see the light of the day. The worst thing I can do about my book is to shove my manuscript under my desk because I’m too scared to take a chance and send it to publishers.

“You don’t want your gravestone to read, ‘Avoided that which he most wanted to do because it was too hard!’” –George Saunders

My book is now out on submission. I don’t know when it’s going to get published and I know that I’ll get rejections because rejections are like that shameless uncle who keeps barging into your home, even though you’ve told him not to come to your home. I believe my book will get published one day. It doesn’t matter what day that will be—whether that is one year or five years from now—I have done the work, I have written a book that means everything to me and that’s what matters.

“Don’t lament so much about how your career is going to turn out. You don’t have a career. You have a life. Do the work. Keep the faith. Be true blue. You are a writer because you write. Keep writing and quit bitching. Your book has a birthday. You don’t know what it is yet.” –Cheryl Strayed

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