I submit the moment is as fickle as a butterfly in June. It moves from person to person, touching them at different times in the process.
For me, it was my first EVER acknowledgement from a reader. Since I’d never written an author in my life, it didn’t occur to me that people would actually tell me if they enjoyed the book. I was shocked. It was that giddy moment one is not sure “this” is really happening to me.
I understand that some people need to label everything. It’s like my need to rip up To Do lists. I NEED to destroy them. It’s not logical and it’s often a bad thing, but I wanna do it! Or the fact that I adore cookie jars. I don’t know why. They are large, often ugly and I can’t resist collecting them. It makes no sense. So putting out a set of standards that must be met to become a “real writer” makes no sense to me.
I still don’t feel like a “real writer” most of the time. Apparently RWA agrees with me most of the time. That might matter if RWA could cut me off from the publishing outlet I’ve chosen. They can’t, so I’ll just continue my merry blunder down the publishing path and enjoy the rewards of my “hobby.”
I do feel blessed in the extreme. Complete strangers have taken the time to contact me with their thoughts. I can’t think of a higher honor or award in this day and age.