I kept quiet for a long time about my ambition to become a published author. The only people who knew about my goal were my husband, my mom and two friends, Lori and Julie. What if I didn’t accomplish my goal? What if no one ever like my books enough to publish them?
When my first book Be With Us, was accepted by SirenBookstrand, I was over the moon but now I had a new problem. How did I tell everyone in my life that I wrote erotic fiction? How could I look my father in the eye and say the word “menage”? How could I look my in-laws in the face and casually mention that I wrote dirty books?
I finally just spit it out. I left it at “adult fiction” with my dad, although I’m pretty sure he could tell by my flaming face exactly what was so “adult” about the fiction. He’s very proud of me but I don’t think he’ll ever be ready to read anything his precious baby girl has written.
I brought up the subject with my in-laws not long after. I figured that if I could tell my father, I could tell anyone. When it came time to tell them what subject I’d written about, I told them that anyone who read my book would think my husband to be a very happy man.
Regardless of the subject, everyone has been so supportive of my achievement and my family has been my greatest cheerleaders. I’m not sure why I was ever reluctant to tell them.
But I still don’t want to know when my family reads my books. Let’s leave me with some illusions, shall we?