Last night I couldn’t sleep (naturally), so a little before midnight I got up to check my phone. And when I synced my Kindle, I saw this:

And I cried. Just a little. (I’m a very emotional person.)

I’ve led a very fortunate life. I know how lucky I am. And I’ve had many truly wonderful moments (getting married, having children, obtaining dream jobs, etc.). But I can only remember feeling this way on one other occasion: the day I graduated from law school. And I know why. Because I had two dreams as a child: to be a writer, and to be a lawyer. (Okay, technically three since I also wanted to be a movie director, but let’s not split hairs.)

Last night, I got to live my other childhood dream. I’m sure I’ll go back to being an attorney someday. I’m still licensed, I have always loved what I do, and I derive tremendous meaning from my chosen profession.

But the child in me…the one who knew that if given the chance…maybe…just maybe…she could write the hell out of something…she got to live again in the early morning hours of March 17, 2015. Because she got to see her dreams come true.

This book might sell. It might not. I suppose I care, just a little. I know it’s a good book. I know it’s a good series. And if things are meant to happen, they will. But for now I’m taking this small victory for what it is. I wrote a damn book. And I published it. And people bought it, and blogs reviewed it, and it’s out there in the world. My little book baby, for everyone to see.

And that’s effing awesome.