What do you expect now that you’ve just published your first book with a small, independent, ideally respected press? That the whole world will open up to you and bow down at your feet? That your genius will be trumpeted and sung from every mountaintop or at least one well-known reviewer will not just say nice things but take notice? That your book will be read by discerning readers and scholars, adopted by book clubs, nominated for prestigious prizes, and reviewed anonymously on Amazon by people outside your friends and family? That your world will change overnight? That you will change overnight? That you will speak in more complete sentences, that your writing will carry more weight? Please dear God, I hope you weren’t hoping or waiting for a movie contract, perhaps an agent to snap you up on the track record of a few hundred sales? The world will go on turning. It will be the same old world as yesterday. You will be the same old person, even if you are young. Most people won’t read your book. It won’t change their lives. More importantly, it won’t change yours. Only you are in control of that. And that’s not through writing a book but through your soul. But young (or old) writer, rejoice. You have earned your small place on a challenging mountain where people regularly go missing, are lost in storms, and fall into deep crevasses, or worse, give up and head back. Look out around you, still in the foothills, Heat yourself a cup of tea on your camping stove and gaze up at the sky. Give thanks for finishing your book. Take courage and ready yourself for next year’s climb.