One year ago today, The Diary went up for preorder. My debut novel, my first book baby, was out in the world for people to buy. I was at work, just like I am today, impatiently waiting for my publisher to share the news on social media. This is it, I thought, giddy, the beginning of the rest of your life. A proper author.
And then the posts started to flood in. During my drive home, my phone constantly vibrated with Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram notifications. It took all my willpower to leave it alone, to wait until I got home. I spent the entire evening on social media, basking in the glow of their congratulations.
Then the obsessive rank checking began. In the last 12 months, The Diary got up to number 118 in the Amazon bestseller chart. Just shy of the coveted top 100. But 118. Little old me, out of the millions of books on Amazon, sitting at 118. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it, not even after my second novel, The Girl Across the Street, actually got into the top 100. It was a dream come true.
And now we’re a year on. A whole year has passed since that euphoric first day, the very first time people could buy my book. A lot has happened since then, but I’ll always remember that exciting, intoxicating first day.