Day in the Life of an Indie Author: The Waiting, the Learning, and the Unexpected Healing

I’m in a strange season of waiting. Waiting for the business things to take shape. Waiting for the new checking account to clear. Waiting for everything I thought I had lined up to catch up to me. And here’s what I’ve realized during all this waiting: I’m not a procrastinator. In fact, I feel incredibly uncomfortable when I’m forced to slow down because of logistics - especially when I’ve done my part, and the rest is out of my control. It’s uncomfortable. It’s disorienting. I’ve never self-published a novel, never walked through this exact version of the process. There’s no real manual for this - not one that prepares you for the emotional layers beneath the deadlines and checklists. What I do have, though, is a growing catalog of experiences I’ll never forget. Mistakes I’ll never make again. The kind that burn just enough to refine you, not define you. And honestly? That’s what makes this journey worth documenting - so someone else, maybe you, won’t have to stumble in the same spot.Right now, my brain feels like it’s in a recovery phase. Not burnout exactly - more like I’ve spent years digging deep, holding space for this world, this story, these characters…and now I’m trying to reset before the next wave comes. I’m struggling to find the words. To form full thoughts. To piece sentences together the way I used to without effort. It’s frustrating, especially when I want to move forward. When I feel like the story is waiting for me, right there on the other side. But maybe this recovery is part of the process too. Maybe the pause is its own kind of preparation.Here’s what I know with certainty: this book, Moons and Shadows, has become the one I’ve been searching for all along. It’s lived dormant inside me for years, quietly forming its own realm, waiting for the right time to rise. And now that it’s coming alive, I feel like I’m catching up to something ancient and sacred and…mine.So today? I’m sitting in this strange middle place. A little discombobulated. A little undone. But still here. Still moving. Still writing - even if the words aren’t quite lining up the way I want them to yet.Because the story is worth it. And so is the wait.Thanks for walking this with me. If you’re in your own waiting season, I see you. We’re not stuck - we’re recovering, and we’re becoming.