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The Highs and Post-Book Blues
During the past three weeks since the launch of my debut book, One Year and a One-Way Ticket, I’ve been battling between two opposing emotions that comprise my post-book blues:
The exhilaration of having finally brought my book baby to life.
And the tormenting anxiety and mental swings of navigating the book’s promotion and overthinking what my next ‘move’ as an author will look like.
I try to constantly remind myself to be grateful, that many people who try to write a book never make it to this moment. Still I can’t deny the constant doubt and post-book blues I’ve encountered this past month.
I shake my head constantly, attempting to force myself to refocus on the present moment and relish the fact that I have just completed a seemingly impossible task.
The problem is that when I’m not actively curating content for my social media, or presenting or reading at one of the events I’ve hosted on my mini book tour, I’m struggling immensely with shaking this unexplainable sense of dread.
Or at least, I thought it was unexplainable until I did a bit of research.
Prevalence of the Post-Book Blues
It turns out I’m not the only person to be using the term postpartum book depression (I’d like to add as I have never had children I can’t relate to REAL postpartum depression, but since I call my book my baby, it felt apt).
I realized there is no shortage of threads online where authors describe their harrowing feelings about having their books finally published.
As I read Tawny Lara’s words about the feelings of grief, I resonated deeply with how the experience of finally letting go of a project like this can cause a similar type of serotonin and dopamine crash as one feels with a hangover—contrary to having birthed a child, I can deeply relate to this feeling.
The high of putting in the final touches of my book, from choosing a color for the cover, and the fine-tune edits to the interior, were all exciting—like the energetic high I feel running back to the dance floor after shooting back a few rounds of tequila.
Now, I can hardly even look at the boxes of books I ordered to sell at events. They feel like an evil spirit perched on my shoulder—a heavy burden I’m not sure I can muster up the courage to deal with and keep working at.
Maybe it’s because I’ve worked too long and too hard. Maybe this is what real burnout feels like.
I wonder if this is how a marathon runner feels as they’ve crossed the finish line. Do they feel like this once they have to stand up on a podium and smile for a crowd?
I wouldn’t say there’s a perfect happy ending to this post.
I’m still having trouble sleeping. My period has been absent for nearly two months (which I take as a bad sign that I will be taking up with my doctor on my next appointment). Even when I stick to my healthy eating and exercise routine, I still struggle to focus on my tasks and be productive.
But there have been many moments of gold, that have instilled within me the hope to keep going (to where exactly I’m not sure—but at the very least, keep looking for ways to get my story into the readers who need it most).
I was lucky enough this past month for many things—one of which was attending the AWP conference in Los Angeles.
"Am I Even An Author?" and Other Thoughts...
I should tell you…this is the first writer’s conference I’ve ever attended.
I should also mention that I am a writer without any training in writing craft. When I first walked in, I deeply resonated with Roxane Gay’s keynote speech and like her was intimidated by the intellectual eyeglasses, the MFA’s almost everyone had, and how so many of these talented writers already knew each other and mingled effortlessly.
Who the hell am I to be walking around here, thinking I’m some kind of writer, let alone an author?
Whenever I pulled my book out of my bag to show someone, I felt like a fraud.
Beyond the Post-Book Blues
Don’t worry. The glimmers of hope are coming.
Between my moments of feeling like a ‘fake author’, I shared my vulnerabilities with a handful of people.
Before I took this sticker I explained to a woman about my frustrations with feeling like I was getting a tidal wave of advice from people on how to market my book. But of course, I’m only one person (on a tiny budget) without many connections.
When visiting the WriteGirl table, I candidly explained, “Well I don’t have any degree in English or writing, so I’m not sure if I’m fit to volunteer to help students with their writing.”
The woman at the table replied, “Well considering you wrote and published a book, I’d say you’re more than qualified.”
It seemed to me like a kind of chicken or egg scenario.
Can I be an author without the MFA, writing background, and experience?
Or was becoming an author my backward way of becoming a professional writer?
I have no clue.
But, what I was pleasantly reminded of during some of the wonderful panel discussions I attended was that there is no right answer to that question.
I was shocked to hear that a good chunk of these successful authors didn’t have MFAs (nor did they sport fancy spectacles).
Some said that their books didn’t gain much popularity until well after their official launch, and continue to book media coverage years later.
During this time of my post-book blues, I desperately needed to be reminded that we are all carving our own way through life.
The irony of this is that the concept of finding our own path in life is what I write about in length in my memoir—the source of my current stress and post-book blues.
It turns out that what I needed to hear most, were the words I hope bring peace and hope to my readers.
Wherever you are.
Wherever you are going.
Keep moving to where your heart,
your soul,
your bliss,
pulls you.
When you feel like giving up, take a brief look behind, so you can remember all you have already conquered, experienced, and learned.
To whoever reads this: know that I love you and that it’s never too late, or early, to start chasing the things in life that set your soul on fire.
Much love,
Danika
P.S. Aside from the conference, another little bundle of joy was being featured in a fun conversation for One Off Travel Stories where I shared a comical experience of getting into Giza on Eid.
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