I had a dream from the age of six, but by the time I was fifteen, I had given someone else the power to make sure it would never happen. And they never even knew.
That dream? To write a novel.
A throwaway comment from an English teacher got stored in my head as the belief that I couldn’t write a story. I never wrote another one, apart from those I had to for English exams. After thirteen years of motherhood, I never told my kids a made-up story, because I believed I couldn’t.
I published five life-changing non-fiction books, but that wasn’t enough for me to consider myself an ‘author’ – because I hadn’t published a novel.
Yes, I know it sounds irrational, but that’s how limiting beliefs work. I’m guessing you know that, too.
Then, one day in July this year, I had had enough. I did some block-clearing work and ditched that belief. I didn’t feel any different, which was a huge disappointment. But two days later I had drafted seven novels. Three months later I had written two of them. Today the first 500 copies of the first book (edited, type-set, gorgeous cover done) were delivered to me, ready for shipping before Christmas to everyone who has believed in me and pre-ordered it.
Here’s how excited I was:
And if you want to join me for the launch party, here’s where to get your copy:
[thrive_link color=’blue’ link=’https://www.clarejosa.com/youtakeyourselfwithyou/’ target=’_self’ size=’medium’ align=’aligncenter’]I Want My Copy![/thrive_link]
See you there!
