It's the Little Things

It's been a funny old week. Some mornings, like today, I've simply not wanted to get out of bed and face the world. It's just been one of those weeks. Without going into detail, my book and it's quality have been at the heart of my worries. I think this happens to writers from time to time. Sometimes, I can get all the praise in the world, but the one, tiny little piece criticism is the only thing I'll hear. It's stupid, I know this, especially when more often than not I don't actually care about the criticisms being made. So long as people aren't criticising the quality of my writing or story-telling I couldn't give a hoot. But on weeks like these... every little thing stands out.

I am having doubts about my choices as an author, about my ability and about my story. The worries have increased over the last week. It was then a real treat to receive an email back from Mr Clarkson, the librarian at Trinity Academy, with an order for ten of my books. Ten! I can hardly believe my luck. Ten pupils have decided to buy my book on the back of the presentations I gave a couple of weeks ago. Surely that has to be a good sign? Mr Clarkson also informed me that some of them have made cards for me. Now, this is a wonderful thing. It pleases me no end. In fact, it gives me a lovely, warm, fuzzy sense of achievement that really takes the edge off of how I've been feeling this week. How lovely is that? The pupils have made me cards! I am well chuffed. It makes me feel as though my visit to my old school was truly a fantastic event.

It just goes to show that these little gestures can make the world of difference to someone like me. Without knowing it, these teens have reassured me that I'm meant to be a writer. Simply by hearing about what they've been up to has me uplifted. A positive end to an otherwise an awful week.