MY BIGGEST CHEERLEADER

“You can’t give up, Ellie. You have a gift.”

They say it takes a village to raise a child, but I’m here to tell you, it takes several villages to write a book 😂

There are endless amounts of people that I need to thank for helping me get Reframed from idea in my head, to computer screen, and then to paper. Family, friends, acquaintances, I have had support from every single corner of my life, and I am in awe, truly in awe, of how loved I am. I could never deserve it, but I am so thankful for it.

When I’m asked who my greatest supporter is, (besides my Savior and Heavenly Father, of course) my mom is always quick to jump in and say, “Grandpa. Grandpa was, and is, her biggest fan.”.

And she’s not wrong. There is a reason my book is dedicated to my Grandpa Jackson. Someone who loved you enough to tell you the truth, his voice of reason and encouragement helped me to get through some really tough days in writing. I am forever grateful to be his girl.

However, there are different avenues of support in a writing journey. It takes several villages, remember? And without a doubt, the title of Biggest Cheerleader goes to the person who always tries to shift the honor to someone else: Mamma Mia.

You know that quote about your mom cheering so loud, you couldn’t hear the people who were rooting against you? That is my mom, hands down. She deserves at least half of the credit for each and every one of my books. Why?

Because she sat with me during the rejections.

Because she listened to horrible summaries of rough drafts when I was questioning if the story was even worth telling.

Because she loves my characters as much as I do.

Because she listens to the playlists with me, demanding I explain where each song and lyric fit into the plot.

Because she helped to stoke the flames of my talent.

Because, like her father, she loves you enough to tell the truth. If she said she loved my story, I knew she really did. She would never let me walk down a path I stunk at.

Because she bolsters me every time I finish a first draft that I swear I hate, only to giggle along with me when I start the second and realize I love what I’ve created.

Because she smiled so big when I was finally brave enough to declare myself an author. That smile lives rent free in my head.

Because she never let me give up.

Because she was shining with pride at my book signing party.

Because she reminded me I am never in this alone. Not just because she was my teammate, but because They were.

And finally, because she reminds me what matters most.

“What if no one likes it? What if it doesn’t sell? What if I put all of this work in for nothing?”

These weren’t questions I asked just in the moments leading up to the book release, but on all of the days. In the years leading up to Reframed’s birthday, I often questioned if any of it was worth it.

And my mom, with her half-century of knowledge, (something we, as her children, love to remind her she possess) asked me inquiries in return that bored right into my soul.

“Why are you doing this, Ellie? Why are you writing? To receive the praise, or because you love the story?”

Yup, that’ll get ya.

At the time, I brushed off her words and let my worries consume me. As one does. However, like all good pieces of advice, my mother’s words stayed with me, shaping me into a person that could bear this weight. Bear the weight of being an author.

Slowly but surely, I began to realize my why behind writing. And that changed everything.

No, I wasn’t writing because I wanted to make millions. (though, I’m not going to send that gift back if it comes my way) I wasn’t writing because I finally wanted to feel good enough for those around me. I wasn’t writing for the opinions of others.

I was writing for me. I was writing because the stories my Savior and Heavenly Father had blessed me with deserved to be set free. I was writing because I believed this is what the Lord had put me in this very moment for. I was writing because I loved it.

And that blessing? The gift of that mindset has been the biggest form of support I could ask for. Why? Because it blessed me with peace.

It blessed me with the ability to not care if the book wasn’t perfect, if it didn’t sell well, if I got bad reviews, or if I appeared like a failure to those around me. I know longer cared. I didn’t have to check the stats or the sales or the opinions of others. I could just be. I could just be, knowing I had done all I possibly could, all They and those I loved expected of me.

With total faith, I could leave this journey in my Savior and Heavenly Father’s hands, and be at ease. Not just because I knew my “why”, but also because like my mother, I knew Them. Her teachings, her example, her hope and faith and relationship with Them taught me that wherever they took my writing was exactly where I wanted to go.

So, beloved Mamma Mia, Reframed is not dedicated to you, and neither of us are sorry about that. The first book had to be for Grandpa. But, you get an embarrassing, long blog post instead. You’re welcome.

I love you, Mom. I will never know what I did before this life to deserve you, but it will never have been enough. Reframed truly would not be here without you. It just wouldn’t. You are my biggest cheerleader, and I am so glad we get to take this ride together.