The Unimpressive Author

I’m… impressive?

A woman just looked at our table at a craft fair. “You wrote all these? Wow!” She couldn’t fathom someone creating so much.

(She also didn’t buy any.)

Anyway, young me would have had the same reaction. He would have looked at all those books and been boggled. “You wrote all these? Like, they’re real books, and you wrote them? Whoa!”

I look at this table now and sure, there’s some pride. I did create all this!

But… I’m just me. Impressive? Definitely not. I wrote some stories. I have lots more to write.

Maybe it’s a self-image problem. Maybe I’m comparing with other authors. Maybe I’m just comparing now-me with where I want to be.

But… it is impressive when I stop and think about it. To write an entire book? To create a world out of words, to finish a tale, that’s not a simple matter. To have a publisher say, “This is good enough!” To create consistently over years?

Okay.

Fine.

Maybe it is impressive.

Maybe.