Today, I had a coffee visit with a friend I hadn’t seen in a long while. You know the kind of meet-up where you think you’re going to dive into life updates and all the things you’ve missed since you last saw each other? Well, we barely got to any of that because he was way more interested in talking about my writing. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the interest, but man, he had so many questions. Some of my answers seemed to stump him a bit, and honestly, even made me stop and think.
He asked about the success I’ve had, the support I’ve been getting, and how it all feels. So, I told him the truth: the support has come from some unexpected places. It’s funny, isn’t it? You expect the people closest to you to rally behind you the hardest, but that’s not always the case. Sometimes, it’s people you barely know or have never met who end up being your biggest cheerleaders. We got into how some folks are reluctant to follow or share stuff on social media, while others are loud and proud about their support.
And, as we do, we got all psychological about it. I told him that on the surface, I get it. I’m a new writer and an indie writer at that, which is already two strikes against me. I’m not polished enough yet (at least that’s how it feels sometimes), and my style isn’t for everyone. People have their reasons for not following or sharing, just like I have mine for following and sharing things. He’s the kind of friend who has and will buy every one of my books, even if they aren’t really his thing, and I’m grateful for that. But I reminded him that not everyone will do that just because they know me—and that’s okay.
Why I’m Grateful for the Support I Get
Here’s the thing: I understand why people don’t always shout about my work from the rooftops, and that’s why I’m extra appreciative of those who do. The ones who share my posts, leave reviews, and talk about my books to their friends? They mean the world to me. I even try to invest back into those people, I have monthly contests for $100 in exchange for reviews (I do not pay for reviews), offering freebies when I can, giving a shout-out, or just supporting their projects in return. They’re like my “street team,” spreading the word in ways I could never do alone.
I think part of the reason I understand all this goes back to the psychological stuff we talked about over coffee. People are selective about what they attach their names to. And writing is so personal. It’s hard for me to ask people to support me because I know how subjective taste is. My dark fiction, thrillers, psychological twists, and paranormal mysteries might not be everyone’s cup of tea—and that’s totally fine.
When Frustration Hits, I Keep Going
But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t get frustrating sometimes. It’s easy to get discouraged when it feels like you’re shouting into the void or when your posts get a fraction of the engagement you’d hoped for. But the thing is, I’ll never give up. I write for so many reasons—because I love it, because I need to, and because I have stories inside me I want to put on paper. Whether it’s a psychological thriller, a dark mystery, or a twisty, atmospheric ride that keeps people talking, I know that the right readers will find me.
It’s a tough road, sure. Indie writers face all kinds of obstacles. But every little bit of support means something. I’ve got two books coming out soon that I’m excited about: Fault Lines is a psychological medical mystery, and This Must Be the Place is a supernatural psychological thriller, with a strong focus on the paranormal. I’m hoping they’ll resonate with people, and maybe they’ll get shared more than I expect. But even if they don’t make massive waves, I’ll keep going. That’s just what I do.
A Final Thought on Connection
At the end of the day, writing is about connection. I’m lucky to have people who connect with my work, who share it, and who stick by me even if it’s not “their thing.” And for those who haven’t jumped on the train yet, I get it. But for anyone curious, there’s always room to hop on board. If you’re into stories that’ll mess with your head in the best way possible—well, I think we’ll get along just fine.