I did it.

Published my book. It is available on Amazon. An ebook or a paperback.

WHAT?!!!!!

Yeah; I was really nervous about hitting the “publish” button on Kindle Direct Publishing. It felt so vulnerable. Like I was standing naked on the street.

Right off the bat I fucked up.

I read my introduction as an ebook sample and the very first sentence is missing a coma. I would have never seen this in my draft. This was why I was nervous. What have I missed? What have I misspelled? And now I’m going to expose these mistakes to the whole world. I’M A FRAUD. I’M A PRETEND WRITER.

I couldn’t re-read the stories one more time. I didn’t see the glaring mistakes anymore.

I’m suddenly back in Algebra I class with Mrs. Idol at Western Guilford High School.

I’m sure I was an undiagnosed, on the spectrum, dyslexic. Luckily, I was given credit for doing the algebra problems correctly even though I rarely got the right answer. My numbers would get transposed along the way. I’d get a D and then get to take geometry. Theorems. Another D. Algebra II. It would have been better for me to fail the class and take it over than to be moved on to a more advanced class. My math books took a severe beating through the years resulting in hefty damage fees. My SAT scores were so bad in math that I was accepted to college only if I signed up for the remedial math classes. Vulnerability.

I knew the dyslexia existed when I worked my job at Bi-Rite Grocery store during my high school years. I would ring up a buggy full of groceries and say $89.67. The customer would look at the register and say $98.67. There it would be. Right in my face. I saw the correct numbers and totally said the wrong numbers. I heard myself say them. I’m an idiot. What is wrong with me?

Vulnerability. I would walk off the bus and into the high school while Andrew Martineau would walk right behind me quietly chanting “ug…ly…..ug….ly…….ug….ly…….”.

It took me three tries to pass my driver’s test to get a driver’s license. My mom took me. My dad took me. I think my dad’s wife took me the final time. I could drive. I could not drive with the driver’s exam person in the car.

My dad’s wife thought I might be gay since I didn’t have any dates in high school. She said it as if being gay were a fault, to be whispered about and kept tabs on. I didn’t play softball because I didn’t want people to think I might be gay, I had enough going against me already. I did play tennis my senior year of high school. An acceptable girl sport with no sexual labels. We had 12 girls on the team and I was ranked number 12. Kind of like my seat in band. Seat number 1 was the best. I had the last seat and pretended to play my clarinet for a whole year, then quit.

In my younger twenties, drinking alcohol and flashing my tits was a game changer. I would yell hooters, lift my shirt and was instantly the “fun girl”. I preformed and perfected the act of the full flesh flash for years. To this day, I can full flesh flash on my bike while riding no handed. I did not want to be known as “Lisa with the big nose and weak chin” as I had read on my chart at the orthodontist office while getting my braces tightened and rubber bands installed. I wanted to be known as “Lisa with the great tits”. It’s all about getting your arms up while you lift your shirt; everything else goes up too. It’s a great move.

Vulnerability. I’m better. Ever since I became a mom. Ever since I moved to Montana. But clearly it is in my skin, embedded. I think most people I know now would be shocked to hear of my insecurities.

I fear hitting the “publish” button. I could…… just not do it. No one would know I’m just a “writer want to be” who can’t spell.

Then there were the signs.

Yeah.

Literally signs.

I drove into Darby and there on the Bitterroot Community Federal Credit Union digital sign it said; “Believe in yourself”. I drive by that sign once or twice a day and it keeps telling me to believe in myself.

Then I went to my adult ed beginner drawing class at the Darby High School. The dated art room has a chalk board. On the chalk board was written in chalk; “Creativity Takes Courage!!! Henri Matissse”

I went home and hit “publish”.

I’ve been recommending books for over ten years on this blog and I am proud to recommend “Montana Wild Woman” by Lisa Poe as the book for this post. It may not be perfect. It might need some corrections. But I will lift my arms up high as everything else rises up. Thanks.

More great book recommendations and adventures can be found at Wild About Books.