
Image by Steve Johnson from Pixabay
A few years ago I was cleaning out my closet and decided to dedicate a shelf to my writing. I dusted off my Fourth Wall poster board and stood it upright. I unpacked boxes of author’s copies of the books I’d published and lined them up with the poster. Next to those I added all of the anthologies I’ve been featured in over the years.
It never occurred to me why I’d chosen a shelf in the closet.
When a local author shared a photo recently of an entire bookshelf she’d devoted to her own novels, I stared at the picture in wonder. I felt a surge of happiness for her—what a beautiful tribute to her accomplishments!—and then I felt a crush of sadness for me. Why had I chosen a shelf in my closet?
Failing to celebrate our achievements is unfortunately all too common. Perhaps it’s an effort to be humble that makes us silence our own success. Humble is a complicated word, however. Synonyms range from respectful to submissive. From deferential to insignificant. Gemini’s oddly poetic definition is “to be not proud.”
But I am proud. I just need to get better at showing it.
So last weekend, I emptied the shelf in my closet and dusted off that poster board again. Then I rearranged my bedroom bookshelves and created a prominent display of my published work. It’s one of the first things I see in the morning when I wake up, in the afternoon when I get home, and at night before I drift off to sleep.
It’s a start.

























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