A year ago today, my book was published. Is Daddy Going to Be OK? became available worldwide. People were going to find out so much more about my family and what happened to us following the pandemic arriving on UK shores in 2020. I became a published author. Writing became a part of my professional life.
Yet. Somewhat bizarrely for a professional writer, this is the first time I’ve sat at my laptop and written a blog since the start of June. I did write a blog that I published in July, but this was written on my phone while on a flight home from holiday! To actually sit at a laptop and write is something that hasn’t happened.
I could blame how busy our life has been. Navigating GCSEs, the start of college, performing in Disneyland Paris and the musical Grease has certainly kept my daughter and me busy. For clarification, she has been performing, not me. Add to that, working full time, being a trustee for WAY Widowed and Young and trying to have a life, and it becomes easy to see why I haven’t quite managed to write as much as I might have done in previous years.
Plus. I always said that I’d only write if I had something to say. I didn’t ever want to commit to posting a blog every Sunday for example. I didn’t want the pressure of this. And it would have meant that my writing became less authentic. I’d have been writing out of obligation, rather than choice.
But. I’m going to let you into a little secret. I suspect part of the reason that I’ve not written so much over the past year is, quite simply, because I’ve felt like a fraud for a lot of it. I haven’t really referred to myself as an author despite what my profiles may say on LinkedIn, Instagram and Facebook. I’m just someone that has written a book. Not an author.
Call it denial. Call it imposter syndrome. Call it underselling myself. Call it overthinking. Call it a lack of self-belief. There could be any number of reasons for this. But I suspect a large part of it actually comes down to the fact that becoming known as an author for a book I wish I’d never had cause to write has taken a lot for me to get used to.
The night before my book launch was my first real wobble. I sat in our lounge, looked at my daughter and said, “What if it’s rubbish?” At this point, it had been through a copy editor and others within my circle had had an advance copy. Their feedback was not that it was rubbish, but in the 24 hours before it became available, the self-doubt crept in. My daughter, ever the realist, simply replied with, “Well, you’ll just have embarrassed yourself and will have to live with this forever.” I mean. As pragmatic, reassuring responses go, this probably wasn’t one that will go down in history.
I wobbled as I started unpacking and getting things ready at the book launch. I wobbled as people started arriving. I highly suspect most people in that room didn’t have a clue. I signed copies of the book. I made a speech. I managed to quell any nerves that I was experiencing. Except when I look back at photos of that night now, I can see it. I know I’d had a horrible cold in the week leading up to launch and wasn’t feeling at my best, but I can see it in my eyes. I was dealing with a whole host of conflicting emotions. Nerves. Excitement. Anticipation. Fear. Pride. It’s a lot for one person to manage. Especially when that one person is also a solo parent with a full-time job. I didn’t get to decompress after launch. The next day I was back to doing the dance runs. Three days later I was on a train commuting.
None of this is self-pity though. This is my reality and the hand that life has dealt me. I was the one who chose to publish a book and make writing part of my professional career. I think I just underestimated the impact of doing so. Juggling the emotions of being an author, the marketing and promotion of the book with all of my other responsibilities. I’ve felt guilt towards Is Daddy Going to Be OK? that I haven’t been able to do as much with it as I would have liked. That at times it feels like it has taken a back seat. Life as a widow. Feeling guilt towards what is essentially an inanimate object. But an object that my heart and soul went into. All I really wanted was to do my late husband and our story justice. I had no concept of whether anyone would buy a copy or even read it. Let alone what their views might be.
I openly stated that I was never going to read any reviews. Mainly because I didn’t expect that any of them would be complimentary! For someone who has a marketing diploma, I didn’t do the one thing that you should do. I didn’t define an audience before I started writing. All I set out to do was tell our story. Something I’ve been doing with my writing since those very early blogs in 2021. Share what it’s like to be a young widow and solo parent. Whoever may happen to chance upon my writing wouldn’t necessarily know what this life is like. Maybe I could help break some taboos by writing.
What I was unprepared for were the five-star reviews which followed. The comments, stories and book love on social media. If you’re one of the people that has read the book and left a review or shared the love, thank you. You genuinely don’t know how much this means to me. I have read every single one. And they also all help with algorithms and mean that my book may well cross the feed of someone who needs it.
I was unprepared for a LinkedIn post on 2 October from Softwood Books, the publishing company I worked with, congratulating me on making the shortlist for The People’s Book Prize 2026/2027 Non-Fiction Collection. It absolutely floored me. The tears came pretty much immediately. I had to sit with it for a while. How on earth had I made this shortlist? Little old me, who wrote a book on her commute and while her daughter was dancing, was on the same shortlist as a well-known BBC journalist. Amongst many other talented writers.
That day my daughter and I were travelling to Stratford-Upon-Avon to go to the Royal Shakespeare Theatre to see a production of As You Like It. To spend a lot of the day in the birthplace of Shakespeare felt like the perfect place to be while processing my award nomination. I found a card with a quote entitled the Wonderful Wordsmith which started with, “To write is more than putting pretty words on a page; the act of writing is to share a part of your soul with the world.” I’ve never seen anything more apposite.
And yet despite the reviews, the feedback, the award nomination and leading sessions for the Speakers Collective Writer’s Circle, I don’t think I’ve really accepted the “author” title. This really hit home at the end of October when I drove to Suffolk to attend Softwood Books’ Open Evening. It was the first time I would meet any of the team that I had worked with in the run-up to launch and since publication (I genuinely believe they’re saints to put up with all my questions!). I was really looking forward to it. I was excited to be there. However. When I arrived and walked into the room, I immediately felt like a fraud. I didn’t feel I belonged or had any right to be there. And so I did what all grown women in their 40s do when they have a bit of a moment… I went and hid in the toilet!
I did have a word with myself though. And braved going back into the room again. But even then, the nerves were there. I looked at the bookshelves. I didn’t instigate conversation. But then another author came and spoke to me. I started to relax a little bit. We swapped our stories and how we’d found life as authors. Stephen Norris, another Softwood Books author who has also been shortlisted in the same category as me for The People’s Book Prize, came and introduced himself. Again. We swapped stories. We chatted about our experiences. I spoke to other authors, and we’ve exchanged details to stay in touch.
By the end of the night, the 45-year-old who had hidden in the toilet was long gone. A photo was taken of Stephen and me with our books in front of the Softwood banner. When I saw it the next day, I shared it to my personal Facebook account with the words, “When you walk in feeling like a fraud but end up feeling and looking like you belong.” That picture means a lot to me. I’m so incredibly grateful it got captured. Another thing to add to my long list of things to be grateful to Softwood Books for!
As I sit here now, I realise that I’ve missed doing this. Opening the laptop and writing. Sharing my thoughts on a page. Maybe it is time now to reignite that passion in me. Make the time to write. Connect with others in this space. Just this week an ex-colleague of mine tagged me in a post on LinkedIn highlighting the talent and cool literary achievements by people in her network. It landed on a day that I really needed to read something like this and feel the love.
Because as much as people tell me that my words help them, I want to make sure that all my followers and people who read my writing know this. Your words help me too. They show me that telling our story was the right decision. They help my late husband’s legacy live on. To everyone who has supported me, gently encouraged (aka nagged) me along the way, picked me up on the self-doubt days and been there for me, thank you. I will be eternally grateful.
So, on this one-year publication anniversary, feel free to share the love. Buy a copy. Write a review. Share a social media post. Vote for my book. Take a moment to think about not just my family, but all those who lost their lives in the pandemic. For all those who are still feeling the effects of the pandemic. Let’s make sure their stories are never forgotten.
As for me, I genuinely have no idea what year two since the publication of Is Daddy Going to Be OK? will bring. Every now and then I start thinking about whether I’ve got another book in me. I’ve been asked on numerous occasions about this. I didn’t think I had one book in me, let alone two! But something is ruminating. After all. I no doubt should answer the question at the end of the first book… Are you feeling better, Mummy?
But that is for another day. For now, I’m going to take some time to reflect on the past year. I’m so incredibly proud of all that little book that I wrote on the commute has achieved. Of all that I’ve achieved. It’s been a heck of a ride.
And finally. If you’re here for the first time and reading my words, then you’re very welcome. It’s nice to meet you.
I’m Emma Charlesworth. Author.
