Today’s guest article is by Chelle Cordero, author of “Bartlett’s Rule,” “Forgotten,” “Within the Law,” “Courage of the Heart,” “Final Sin,” “Hostage Heart,” and “A Chaunce of Riches.” It’s a pleasure to welcome a prolific author from Vanilla Heart Publishing with a humorous take on the writing life.
You’re not an author, you’re my mom
by
Chelle Cordero
Working as a writer is a hectic and often surreal lifestyle. You live by the power of words, both real and fictional, and you accept the responsibility of those words, the emotions they evoke and the lessons they convey. Although I’ve never participated in NaNoWriMo (a challenge to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days) I can well understand the thrill of accomplishment. Every time I finish an article, a new novel, or edit a writing project, I am thrilled with the same sense of accomplishment.
It’s an amazing feeling to see your name on the cover of a book or see your byline in a national publication. As awesome as it feels to see your name, it is incredible to realize that people are actually reading your words. I’ve had an editor or two (for my non-fiction work) pass along letters they’ve received citing my articles and commenting that they found the information useful; that’s a wonderful feeling. Even more exciting is seeing a site like Amazon taking pre-orders of novels that haven’t yet been released (the ranking system shows that pre-orders have been placed) – people are actually buying books because I’ve written them and they are getting them as soon as they are available.
I’m still me. I am a wife, mother, community volunteer, housewife, sister, aunt, and friend as well as being a writer. I walk in the mall and I’m not hounded by fans because most people don’t recognize me as an author. Every so often I do get someone noticing my author pic on the back of a book and realizing it’s me or an email to me as a writer asking for advice on writing. My friends and acquaintances do call me if they see my name in the paper or the time I did a spot on a local news channel (as a participant in Operation E-Book Drop).
I often read and re-read my own articles and books and sit there thinking “I really wrote that?” Most times I like what I’ve read, perhaps that is just egotism? I guess I am in that in-between stage where I know that I am just an ordinary everyday person and yet craving the acknowledgment of what I’ve accomplished to date. I yearn for fan mail (please! chellecordero@gmail.com) and yet I felt embarrassed the first time someone brought a book up to me at a signing and asked me to autograph it – and I didn’t even know the person!
There is a feeling that is difficult to put into words, even for a writer, which overwhelms you in a crowd where everyone is speaking about their jobs. Then they turn to you…
I’ve often had a thoughtful acquaintance turn to me and ask “So how is your book doing?” and I respond “Which one?” and they’re shocked. Or it’s even funnier when someone I’ve known for years suddenly realizes that I’m a writer – “You wrote a book?” There is no way of comparing my “desk job” with that of my son-in-law’s title as “Infrastructure Analyst” or to my kids’ EMS careers (she’s a paramedic and he’s an EMT).
I try to surround myself with other writer and editorial friends – we understand each other. Whether I connect with these friends on Facebook or in-person at my local RWA chapter, I feel “normal” because of the association. Most of the authors signed with my publisher, Vanilla Heart Publishing, are supportive and friendly, we have a tight group. My writer friends know when to call me on it when I make excuses and also know how to bolster my fragile ego when I need plaudits.
Then while I am feeling particularly talented and good about myself I over hear my daughter chatting with a friend and listing some of her favorite authors. I attempt a “guilt trip” –“What? My name isn’t included?” The answer I get is “You’re not an author, you’re my mom.”
…I chuckle and still feel pretty good.

Chelle Cordero, Author
Chelle Cordero Website
Chelle at Vanilla Heart Publishing