When the front door of Creekline House opened a year ago November 8, there were no fireworks or drama. I simply made my website live and declared I was now publishing books for middle-grade readers.
My boss at the time said, “You’re going to make a million dollars and leave us.”
It’s funny now to see how far he was from what has actually happened. He’s the one who left the agency, while I continue working at two jobs: one as a state employee and one as a children’s book publisher trying to find readers.
I am proud of what I’ve accomplished this first year. I have put three books out in the world. I’ve had six signings, articles in two online papers, a TV spot, and books on the shelves of at least six stores and several libraries. I had a table on Authors Alley at the state’s largest book festival. I’ve received positive reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. I’ve given presentations at schools and libraries. I’ve seen growth on social media, and I’ve written a new book for release next year.
That should be enough to feel I’ve reached the success commensurate with a year of work. But just last night, I was sharing with my brother and dad that, despite all of those wonderful things, I still don’t feel like a published author.
I know that sounds ridiculous. The books are real. They're sitting on shelves and in libraries. Children have read them. Some readers have even told me how much they enjoyed them. But there's a difference between knowing you've published books and feeling that you've found your place as an author.
After all the encouragement from others and all the events, I still want validation where it seems most elusive: sales.
To date, I’ve sold a total of 256 books:
A Very Strange Reversal of Scales - Released January 2026 - 139 copies sold
How to Fry Chicken & Ditch the Nightlight - Released April 2026 - 87 copies sold
Lost & Found in Lantern Hollow - Paperback - Released September 2026 - 23 copies sold
Lost & Found in Lantern Hollow - Hardback - Released September 2026 - 7 copies sold
These sales came from online, events, and consignments with book shops. And nearly every single sale has had me behind it, shining a spotlight on the books through marketing and networking. I’ve seen that, when I’m present, I can sell books. I also know I’m blessed with a wide net of family and friends who have shown their support at the register.
But the silent book shelf and online listing are incredibly difficult spaces to shine a light for sales.
My brother, Ben, reminded me it takes time…and lots more work. Despite a year of burning the candle at both ends, my work is still in the earliest stages of discoverability for potential readers. There will be many more events to attend, people to meet, hands to shake, and pitches to make before I reach the tipping point where my backlist of books works for me rather than me for it—the point where people discover my work because they heard about it from a friend or they read a review or they look forward to my next piece.
And should that tipping point ever come, I imagine it will feel like a million dollars.
Until then, I'll remain grateful for every reader who's taken a chance on one of my books, every bookstore that's opened its doors to me, every library that's made room on its shelves, every encouraging smile, and every lesson learned along the way.
