HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REFRAMED!

Why did you write your book?

Over the past three hundred and sixty-five days, I have been asked that question several times over. What inspired me to write Reframed?

I believe my answers have varied, when the inquiry was posed by both myself and others, and in every instance, the answer was sound. However, the truest, purest response is one I have forgotten during the process of releasing Reframed out into the world, and I think it is one I need reminding of:

I wrote Reframed because it was the book I wanted to read. I’ve heard many author’s feel similarly. The story they are craving cannot be found, and so instead, they choose to write it themselves.

That, is why I wrote Reframed.

I wrote it for the people like Chet, who are very, very tired of the set-up game others feel the need to constantly include them in.

I wrote it for people like Mari, who because of a hard relationship, are so terrified to let someone in, that fear often comes out as anger and a prickly exterior.

I wrote it for people like both Chet and Mari, who are watching people they love take paths that will only lead to pain, but are helpless to steer them back on course.

I wrote it for all of the little sixteen-year-olds in my home town who were desperate to be taken on a date to Sonic, but never go to go.

I wrote it for all of the members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or just Christians in general, who wished for more romance novels that included their unique perspective on the world.

I wrote it for all who are clinging to their faith in their Savior, Jesus Christ, because doing so is the only thing they feel they can do in the face of such difficult trial.

I wrote Reframed for me, I poured my complete heart and soul into that book, and was so incredibly proud of it.

Until I wasn’t.

Until I let the words of others, and my own fears of what their opinions might be, leak into my head and take root there. Until my writing journey became less about loving what I did, and worrying more about marketing, numbers, and possible missed chances.

Lately, I have been feelin incredibly uninspired. Writing has become something I have to do, not something I get to do. Rather than just allowing my characters to breathe and be who they are, I obsess over how others might interpret their actions or behaviors.

I have become consumed with anxiety over how I will possibly get more eyes on my story, because that is the only thing that will give my hard work and dedication value and merit. It doesn’t matter if I like it if no one else does, or if only my friends and family are the sole purchasers of my efforts.

Yeah, writing has been incredibly difficult lately, and the reasons behind it all boil down to one thing. The the very thing that kicked off this whole rant:

I forgot who I was writing for.

I wrote this book for me. The girl who couldn’t quite see herself in a story, the girl who loved words so much she practically breathed them in and breathed them out, the girl who finally felt she had found one of her reasons for being placed on this earth.

How could I forget? How could I forget that the only opinion that really mattered was hers? The most essential byproduct of writing could not be winning over the hearts of others. It had to be about winning over hers, or nothing else would matter.

My stories would not be real, would not be authentic, would not be good, and would not be mine, if I focused solely on the end goal of gaining more readers. Of making them happy, of attempting to guess what they may or may not think. Desperately, I needed to get back to my “why”, and I think the Lord knew that.

So, why did I write Reframed? I wrote it for me, and I could not be more proud of it. It is a story with depth, love, faith, and my personal brand of humor, and I adore it for that. It is a book I will always arrogantly call mine, and I am so glad it was the first to be published. Many more will come after it, but there truly is something special about the first one.

I have a feeling I will only come to love it more and more as the years go on. It was a tale I needed to hear at the moment. My hope it is that it touches others in a similar fashion, but if not, I will choose to still be proud of it. It is a piece of my heart and soul out in the world, a snapshot of my testimony. How could I not completely adore a book like that?

Happy First Birthday, Reframed! Thank you for choosing me to be your storyteller. I love you. Here is to many more birthdays in the future!

And, of course, thanks to all who have supported me through this first year, and are celebrating with me now. It means more than you could ever know. I could not do it without you.