Greetings fabulous folks,

In my Facebook memories yesterday one of the very first interviews I ever did popped up. This was back in 2013 when The Breadwinner was the only book I’d written and I knew next to none of the amazing authors, editors, or publishers I know today. It reminded me of some of the earlier people I’d interacted with on Goodreads and some of the first authors I’d ever spoken with.

A specific author, we’ll call her Barbara for the sake of the story, had begun to message and email me. She was super nice and helpful at first, sharing promotion and self publishing tips. I felt fortunate to have made such a quick connection with an established author. She had tons of reviews and followers on GR, I was eager for her to help me.

She asked me things like how long I had been writing and how old I was. She said she loved younger authors because they were so fortunate to know what their passions were so early on and she said she admired me for putting my work out there.

Eventually, Barbara asked me for a sample chapter of The Breadwinner to post on her blog. I had heard of other authors doing this, so, excited, I sent one over in hopes that it would help generate some buzz for TBW. I offered her a free copy of the book to review, but she declined. I didn’t mind, Barbara was nice and horror wasn’t her thing. I also didn’t mind that she thought it was a silly genre. Barbara said she simply wanted to help promote me because I was new in the writing world and I was a woman.

A few days went by and she emailed me, asking me if I minded some feedback. Naturally, I was starving for feedback at this early point in my writing journey. I sent off my excited reply and eagerly awaited her response. When my phone notified me I had one new email, I immediately went to my inbox, clicked on Barbara’s reply, and started reading.

Barbara told me she had decided not to post the chapter sample because it was so terrible.

She went on to say that while it pained her to type the words to me, she wanted me to know the truth from someone who cared about me. She said I had no knack for writing and that she didn’t want to hurt me, but she didn’t want me to embarrass myself. She said I shouldn’t be writing, and hey, it’s okay, she had said, it’s not for everyone. I clearly had a fun idea, I just didn’t belong in the writing world.

Barbara continued to keep in touch with me, periodically checking in to see how my Breadwinner sales were doing, and then she’d go on to tell me how her books were doing soooooo well. Barbara was a constant bragger and boaster, and I realized after several of these bullshit emails of hers, that she was feigning interest in me just so she could try and knock me down and hurt me.

I won’t lie. It did hurt my fucking feelings. It made me cry. I thought Barbara was my friend, but then I asked myself, who the fuck is Barbara?

Does Barbara know when my birthday is or my mother’s name? Does she know where I grew up or what my first job was? Did I write The Breadwinner for Barbara? Did I write my first book for this person who doesn’t even want to read it and thinks it’s trash?

The answer, obviously enough, to all of this, was no.

I wrote it for me and my roommate at the time, Brandon, who wanted so badly for me to tell Veronica’s story. And I needed to finish that story. I also didn’t give two fucks about Barbara’s 50 Shades knock offs or how nice her yard was. (I don’t like gardening Barbara! A woman’s place is not in the garden, contrary to what you weirdly believed.)

I decided I was going to ignore Barbara from that point on. The Breadwinner became a trilogy, and then I wrote some stories, and then more books, and I’m still writing, and up until yesterday morning I had completely forgotten about Barbara and all her bullshit. And I’ve never been happier to ignore advice in my life.

Oh, and by the way, Barbara thought it was cute when I one day wrote back about how I’d gone on to self publish the follow up to The Breadwinner, Haven. Barbara then stopped replying all together when I’d sent one final reply about some exciting news! The Breadwinner Trilogy had been picked up by a publisher!

Barbara, I think, was my first hater.

Anyway, how does this tie in to today? Fast forward a few years and I sat on my couch yesterday morning reflecting on some stuff. T2017 in particular has been a rough year for me. It started off rough, like, I’m talking January 5th up until just two weeks ago, rough. Life might look beautiful in pretty, filtered pictures and vacation posts, and silly memes, but it’s not all beautiful roses from Barbara’s garden.

This year I questioned myself over and over in regard to everything that I did. It’s hard getting laid off and trying to find your place in a new, menial workplace. It’s hard not to be bitter and wallow in anger and try to place blame where there is none. It sucks when you finally get back to where you need to be and you’re still wondering if you’re good enough.

It’s rough when you’re surrounded by negativity and people who want to bring you down and don’t know how to be happy for you, and sometimes you just can’t shake the feeling that you’re not good enough in any aspect of your life. And then, once that catastrophic thought train takes off from the station, it’s especially tough to shake the negativity from your own head.

Depression is a major fucking bummer, but when you can really admit it to yourself, and you’ve surrounded yourself with people who want to see you succeed and be amazing, you can look at your depression in a different light. I am not my mental illness, I am Stevie Motherfucking Kopas.

There’s no magical cure, but not being quiet about it helps. That Facebook memory from yesterday was exactly what I needed to see to remind myself that I needed to, just like I ignored Barbara, ignore my own self-deprecation. I needed to not look back in bitterness or allow myself to fall further down the depression spiral. I am a pretty awesome lady with a lot going for me, and I never need to take that for granted.

So thank you, to all the real OG’s in my life, who have supported me and put up with my bullshit in 2017. Thank you for not being a bunch of Barbaras.

If anybody ever makes you feel like you aren’t good enough or that you shouldn’t do something you love, tell them to eat trash, and you fucking DO IT anyway. Get rid of that bullshit person who loves to see you miserable because they have nothing to be proud of or happy about. Nobody gets to decide for you but you. So, if you happen to be the one that at some point begins to tell yourself this same thing, look in the mirror and say “eat trash, bitch,” and you fucking get help, and then you DO IT.  Do all the things you’ve been getting in the way of. And if you can’t, just ask for help, you’re not alone. Never alone.

I hope you have enjoyed and learned something in reading my post inspired by Barbara.

Be bold, bitches.

–Stevie