By Michael Evans, February 24, 2024
Sometimes taking a few days to reflect, strategize, and plan away from the notifications and the outside world is necessary. It’s something you don’t know you need to do, until you feel it.
Coming out of this reflection, I have something to share with you. A note on the “weird” ways that my brain works… and a story that may just help all of you as you navigate your author journeys. Let’s get into it…
It might surprise you to find out that I was never one of the “popular” kids (lol on a second thought that probably doesn’t surprise you…).
For two years I wrote my books in silence. Too scared to even think about hitting the “publish” button, nevermind, telling my friends.
I still remember the moment distinctly when I “came out” as a writer to my few high school friends at the time. I had just self-published my first book. The idea of people at my school finding out about it mortified me.
But it felt weird for the group of people I called friends to not know what I spent all my free time doing. I had to tell them.
So I dropped the news casually after go-karting one Friday evening. They looked at me shocked. Almost in disbelief.
Sometimes — we forget that writing a story is a huge accomplishment. When surrounded by thousands of people on a similar journey as ourselves inside online author groups, it’s easy to minimize our own journeys.
Plus self denigration and battling not feeling good enough is our specialty as authors, right? (Just kidding, but I can’t be the only one…).
For years, I struggled to share with anyone in my “real life” that I was an author. It was a defense mechanism.
I had been trained enough by the world up to that point to know that when I let my real thoughts and self-shine it only led to trouble. It made me “stand out”. Whether it was cracking jokes in the back of the class, obsessing about the spelling bee in 5th grade, or writing books in middle school into high school — I had learned that the parts about myself that I loved the most dearly… were the same things that made others look at me differently.
“Nerd”. “Weirdo”. “Geek”.
We have all been there. And unfortunately, it’s not always playground smack talk.
Sometimes our kids get kicked out of Christian school when the teachers find out that you (their mom) secretly writes steamy romance under a pen name.
Our non-writer friends question us, asking if it’s really worth spending that much time on publishing.
Sometimes our loved ones — our very family — is unaccepting of the true version of ourselves, whether it be that we have a different gender or sexuality than they desire — and they stop talking to us after reading our writing.
These are all true stories. True stories from all of you in this community. Stories that I was lucky enough to listen to — but heartbroken every time I hear it.
It’s easy to then question ourselves.
To fall into a world that is built by and for “normal” people.
Whether it’s productivity tips. Whether it’s advice on how to write and plot our stories. Whether it’s advice on how to approach the industry.
So much of it isn’t for us. The “weird” ones. The “lost” ones.
It took me a long time to figure out that being “different” wasn’t just “not a bad thing”. It’s the greatest super power in the world.
The thing I value most in people: intensity, passion, and the courage to live their life led by that passion and intensity.
It’s why I care so much about this community and all of you.
Of course, I love being an author myself – now marks 7 years of me making my foray into indie publishing.
But why I LOVE this community is because being surrounded by you all fills me with so much energy and inspiration.
You don’t just spend your late nights and free times writing stories unless you are passionate about it. You all have the courage to pursue your passion. The obsession. The strength. And a love that others may look at as delusional, “crazy” even.
Your “weirdness” is what makes you special.
But it goes even deeper than that.
Until 2 years ago — I had no idea that the way my brain worked was “different”. I wouldn’t exactly call myself neurotypical, but after years of therapy, it’s also very clear to me that I have strong tendencies that most would consider to be neurodivergent.
- I work in intense periods of hyper focus. If I’m on a roll, I can sit down at my computer for 6 to 8 hours straight and not even get up for food.
- I run on passion. If something excites me, I will get it done instantly and put my all into it, but things that feel more like administrative work and that drain me I often procrastinate to the very last minute (this mostly happens with school work, sorry professors).
- Schedules and regimens are important for me so that I don’t go off the rails in a wilderness of a hundred ideas — but I also don’t work on schedules in a linear way. Whether it’s a content creation schedule or even a work schedule — I’m not “consistent” in a way that is consistent with linear time (I’m consistent in my passions, and that’s what counts!).
- I love risk-taking. I’m practically addicted to the adrenaline from seeing if something I believe in will work out or not. This is where I like to think of the “game” of authorship as a casino — and as long as you bet on yourself, in the long run you will win (that’s because YOU are the house).
- I struggle with not feeling good enough. This leads to cycles where I feel like I have to give more and more, often times draining me. This is why we preach in this group to underpromise and overdeliver and to value yourself. It’s so freaking hard, and I’m the first to say that… cause I struggle with it mightily myself. With this said, it can be a tremendous strength to always want to give and give an amazing experience to folks. We do everything we can to do that here, and often times it’s a mix of passion, excitement, and a feeling at the pit of my stomach that goes “is this community really good enough?“. Thus, we work harder to make it better.
- Numbers are one of the biggest hits of dopamine out there for me. Whether it’s a “page-read” or a CPC or a follower count, I can find myself in a chase for these metrics. I have to balance out these short-term chases with extreme long-term thinking (and simply not checking dashboards) to ensure I have a long-term grounded focus.
Most of these characteristics are viewed as a negative and make it tough for us neurodivergent or “neurospicy” or [insert choice word here] to operate in the “normal” world.
Inability to maintain consistency makes regular conversations with friends challenging. Passion and getting caught up in projects means unless it’s a hard deadline, I’m often late to things. Risk-taking is a great trait — but you have to be an environment that privileges and fosters that, and gives yourself the ability to fail (you can’t bet everything on a singular risk!). Hyper-focus is remarkable, but only if there are boundaries that ensure self-care.
I could literally write a whole book on this. Managing mental health for indie authors.
But that’s not my point.
My real point is this…
My brain works differently. Most of ours do. And that’s a great thing.
I’ve never explicitly shared that here. I’ve never explicitly shared that publicly anywhere. And that’s a mistake.
During my reflections this week, I kept going back to one moment in particular.
The moment Stephanie Swann won the Storytellers Rule the World 2023 Grant.
I connected with her story — a working mom trying to support her family and pursue her passion as an author.
And a neurodivergent author.
Stephanie mentioned that one reason she was excited to get the grant was to be coached by me, someone who she also suspected had ADHD.
Do I have ADHD?
I have no idea. Therapy works great for me. And I’m not formally diagnosed — like so many of us in creative communities.
But what I can tell you is this.
Secretly, I feared that sharing this… that sharing how my mind works… would be a bad thing.
Why?
Because I worried what people would think about me. I worried what you all would think about me. And even putting that aside, I wondered, would this be helpful to anyone? Would y’all even care?
After having Stephanie share her story, I realized that I had a responsibility to share mine.
We want this to be a safe space for you all to share your struggles and triumphs as subscription authors. How could I expect you all to be vulnerable if I wasn’t able to be vulnerable about something so core to my experience as a creative?
And more importantly, I want to inspire you.
50% of CEOs and entrepreneurs are neurodivergent or have strong neurodivergent tendencies.
A plurality of creative people are neurodivergent.
In short, us “weirdos” who are obsessively passionate, risk-taking, and hyper-focused… are the ones creating change in the world.
Those “weirdos” are you. Whether you are neurodivergent or not. Whether you share the same struggles as me, or not.
We all are different. We all are “weirdos” in our own way.
And I’m here to share with you that the things about you that make you different are the very things that make you special. They are the very things that will change the world.
Subscriptions are about building a space that gives you control to make your author career work in a way that is best suited to YOU. To play to your strengths and passion and create a space of readers who share that passion and love for your stories with you.
We are all on this journey together.
And if it ever feels like the world is against us… sometimes… it kind of is.
“Normal” resists change. And so much of the dashboards, data, and feedback loops perpetuated in the publishing industry aren’t kind or friendly to the minds of folks who struggle with the things that I do.
This is why it’s very special when we get to ask ourselves a question — what if we made that world better?
What if instead of us working for the publishing world, the publishing world worked for us?
By authors for authors.
That’s our mission. And one of the things I’m most excited about is how we can make this journey, which is often filled with incredible highs and incredible lows, easier and more suited to thriving creative minds. To create spaces where you all can be yourselves and express yourselves — whether it be a taboo kink, fantasy world with multiple new languages, or cozy mysteries that make you want to curl up by the fireplace.
Thank you all for being here. And thank you all for accepting me for who I am. I would love to hear in any story you’d like to share related to your mental health and being an author.