Well, Would Ya Look at That? I'm a Published Author Now!
My first book, One Hundred Days of Rewilding, was supposed to be published on October 7th.
But through some feat of magic, I woke up on the morning of October 4th to an email telling me that it was officially available to purchase.
Three days early.
I was eeky-squeaky, jumpy-up-and-downy elated.
And at the very same time, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Like, of course this was happening. Of course I'd written a book. Of course it was out there in the world now.
It was meant to be.
So I celebrated with a delicious breakfast and bubbles, as one should, and then did what any newly published author might do.
I started Discovery for my next book, lol!
The strange and wonderful business of being read
Since publication, people have been buying the book, sharing photographs of their copies and sending me the most gorgeous, heartfelt feedback.
One reader told me she was finding it so difficult to put down that she was considering calling in sick to work.
I mean, what more could an author possibly want?
Another told me that I'd put words to experiences she'd lived through but had never been able to talk about.
That one really stayed with me.
What's surprised me most is just how differently the book is landing with people. Different passages, different experiences, different doorways opening.
And, of course, there's something particularly lovely about the way Irish readers are connecting with the childhood stories.
There's a passage in the book about my granny, who used to remind me how lucky I was to get an entire orange to myself.
An entire orange!
A reader got in touch to tell me that her father used to say exactly the same thing.
And I just love that.
These tiny, peculiar details of growing up that you imagine belong only to your own weirdo family turn out to be part of a much bigger picture.
It's been fascinating to discover that once you release a book into the world, it doesn't really belong exclusively to you anymore.
People bring their own lives to it. Their memories, their histories, their longings, their grief, their humour.
And suddenly something you wrote alone becomes a conversation starter.
On being misunderstood
Of course, publishing something so personal also means being seen.
And being seen means opening yourself up to being misunderstood.
I've had to get used to that quickly.
One of the things I'm discovering is that exposure is something you develop a capacity for. You put something out there, it feels vulnerable, something hits a nerve, and then you discover that you're still standing.
And quite often, whatever hit the nerve turns out to be excellent material for future writing.
Very efficient, really. Like compost!
But there's something much more important here.
One of the reasons I wrote One Hundred Days of Rewilding was because I never want women to hold back from doing what's on their hearts for fear of being misunderstood.
Because the thing is…
You will be misunderstood.
Guaranteed.
Some people won't get what you're doing. Some will interpret it through their own experiences or assumptions. Some simply won't be interested.
But for the people who are ready for what you have to say?
You will open doorways.
And surely that's worth the discomfort of being visible.
I'd much rather risk being misunderstood than spend my life editing myself into something everybody can agree with. Spoiler alert: it won’t work!
The book that rewrote me
Here's something I didn't expect.
I thought I was writing a book.
What I didn't realise was that the book was writing me, too.
As I wrote One Hundred Days of Rewilding, something in me kept changing. My understanding of my health, my creativity, my work, my relationships and what I wanted from life.
And the really fascinating thing is that it hasn't stopped.
The book rewrote me as I wrote it, and it continues to rewrite me now that it's published.
I keep discovering new things about what I've written. New themes reveal themselves. New meanings emerge through conversations with readers.
It continues to unfurl.
I guess that's what art does.
Through creating, possibilities we couldn't have imagined beforehand become available.
A year ago, my life bore almost no resemblance to the one I'm living now.
And I'm enormously proud of that.
I'm proud that I wrote the book. But I'm also proud of how consistently I'm showing up for it now. Talking about it, sharing it, promoting it, inviting people into the conversation.
I'm not waiting quietly in the corner hoping somebody discovers it.
I'm giving it a proper chance to find its people.
Creativity First. More than ever.
Something else has shifted.
I now identify as a writer.
Not somebody who happened to write a book. A writer.
And I'm more committed to living a Creativity First life than I've ever been. Almost doggedly so.
Because writing this book has shown me something that I don't think I could have learned by thinking about writing a book.
You learn as you create.
You don't need to know everything before you begin.
You don't need to have every chapter mapped out, every skill mastered or every possible outcome accounted for.
You begin, and the work begins teaching you.
Which brings me rather conveniently to my next book.
Romantic fiction. Haha!
Yes, really.
Before publishing One Hundred Days of Rewilding, I don't think I would ever have seriously considered writing a romance novel.
But now?
Why the hell not?
I've already started getting to know the main character, and I'm completely fascinated by her. I love discovering who she is, what she wants, how she thinks and what makes her tick.
I find myself wanting to spend more and more time in her company.
And I have absolutely no idea where all of this is going to take me.
Which is wonderful.
Because I know something now that I didn't know before.
I don't have to know.
I can learn as I write.
And so, the adventure continues
There's still so much to come for One Hundred Days of Rewilding.
I'm taking it to the OM Yoga Show in London, hosting an online book party on October 28th, and dreaming up more opportunities to meet readers, give talks and take this little book out into the world.
And somewhere in amongst all of that, I'll be spending time with a fascinating fictional woman who has apparently decided she'd like me to tell her story next.
What a life.
A year ago, I longed for more freedom but honestly, I didn’t imagine any of this.
And that's the most exciting part.
I have absolutely no idea what my life will look like a year from now.
But I know I'll be creating it.
And if there's one thing publishing this book has taught me, it's that you don't have to wait until you know how the story ends before you start writing it.
I'm only getting started.
One Hundred Days of Rewilding is a funny, intimate and occasionally provocative memoir about health, creativity, self-trust and the extraordinary things that can happen when we begin choosing ourselves.
You can also follow the book's adventures, reader photographs and lovely messages over on Instagram @freddyjohnstonxox.