I tried to share a Facebook post by my brother, Keith Ewing, where he thoughtfully included a link to my book, What is a Hero? (Damson Dragon Diary 1) but Facebook apparently thought I just wanted to share the link. No, THIS is what my brother said, and that I wanted to share:
So, it’s after bedtime for my oldest. I go into his room and his light is still on. I fake indignation as he really is a monster when he’s short of sleep. But his also a READER, which makes me happy. I don’t know any reader that didn’t spend time in childhood reading when he/she should have been sleeping. So, I go in to turn off the light and I see what he is reading. It’s the book that my sister wrote. My son is reading the book that my sister wrote. For fun. Is that cool or what?
That is so beyond cool, that cool does not even begin to touch it. That is downright frosty. I have accomplished many small goals on my way to my eventual bigger goal of becoming a professional author. (I am already a professional writer, but it's not quite the same thing.) When I sold my first story, I was a very happy woman. When my first book was published, that was an amazing time. When a bunch of other skilled writers and artists wrote stories for The Protectors, a world I invented, that really felt like author territory. But none of it made me feel like I had accomplished the goal like this.
My 11 year old nephew is sneaking time to read my novel. Today, I really am an author.