Monday morning I got a picture sent to me by a friend. It’s always good to hear from her, as we haven’t been able to hang out much in recent years, so I was quick to open up the text. When I saw the contents my jaw dropped.

It was my book, in her hand. Over the next few hours a few other people shared similar images with me, and each time I shook my head in disbelief.

That’s when it became real to me. I wrote book, spent the time and money to get it published, and people were buying it. My initial reaction was, of course, excitement. It was replaced by terror in rapid succession.

What if people say it stinks?

Imposter syndrome is a real thing. But, dang it, I put this thing out anyway. And it’s real.

Despite my ingrained terror, if you happen to read In The Land Of The Penny Gnomes I’d love for you write a review in whatever store through which you happened to purchase the book. Or, if you’re inclined, on Goodreads.