Three years ago this month, my bestie (and then Hay House Event Director) Nancy Levin offhandedly suggested I attend the Hay House Writer’s Workshop she was putting up in Denver at the end of the month.
I took her up on the offer–not having any idea what a major turn of events it would be in my life.
That weekend I discovered that people who are writing books to change the world really need editors who specialize in those exact types of books. Self-help, inspirational memoir, spirituality.
Because of that conference, I gathered a tribe of those very collaborators–and started matchmaking authors with the editors, writers and coaches they needed.
A couple weeks after the conference, it was becoming clear that I now had a full-throttle business on my hands.
I was exhilarated. It all seemed so FUN, I told Nancy one day.
“If it ever stops being fun,” I asked her, “please remind me that it’s time to close up shop.” She promised.
It has been a ROLLER COASTER since then.
I often say I got accidentally pregnant with a business, and suddenly I had a toddler on my hands who needed all my time and attention.
And just like any parent knows, our “children” are able to push every single one of our buttons with the greatest of ease.
I’ve faced all the trials that first-time business owners face:
–The panic that sets in when the problem you most feared would happen actually happens.
–The feeling of being blindsided when things go wrong that you didn’t even know could go wrong.
–The fear of being bankrupted by a lawsuit.
–The disillusionment of discovering that someone you trusted is not worthy of that trust.
And then there are the deeper cuts. The very most personal of wounds that get torn open again and again.
The places where I thought I had “done my work”–only to discover that there’s much, much more work to be done.
- I have had to face my perfectionism.
- My fear of not being good enough.
- My secret belief that I’m a bad person and don’t deserve success.
- My sense of entitlement that life should always be easy.
- My painful, painful pride.
Suffice it to say, the past three years have not always been fun.
I have cried to Nancy more than once, asking her if I’m allowed to close the business yet.
Like a good friend, she has never said yes.
She knows that, even through the challenges, running KN Literary has been one of the most important experiences of my life. Committing to stay through the rough times–and to nurture and encourage the circle of open-hearted collaborators and clients we have attracted into our tribe–has made me more of the woman I want to be in this world.
It’s broken my heart in all the right ways.
So today, I say thank you. Thank you to everyone who has helped us get to three years–our clients, our collaborators, our Publishing Consultants, my mentors, my friends.
I send love to each and every book that we’ve helped birth into the world, with the hope that it reaches every reader who needs to hear its message.
And I thank the spirit of KN Literary arts–which I now know is much greater than little me–for deciding to be born through me. I promise to take care of you to the best of my ability for as long as you want to be in the world.