"My name is Indigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die."

 I've been trying to figure out how to write this for about a week or more, everything has become a blur since I began school. Someone remind me why I signed up in the first place? I'm not sure if I can put it into words because I am still in shock over it. But, I am going to attempt it. (Didn't that sound like a grand opening?)

 The other day a fellow called me from the site I bought my dominion name from. He wanted to make sure it was working for me and see if I had any questions. When he asked me what I was planning on using it for I calmly told him it was for my books, to help promote them. That got him curious and he asked a little more. I told him I was an author.
 It wasn't until after I had gotten off the phone and thought back on the conversation that it sank in what I had said. Without any hesitation, I had been able to declare, out loud to someone, that I am an author.

 Sure, I've written more than 20 books, I've published two, I have people reading them, but I've still not been able to think of myself as a real author. I felt like something was missing, probably because I don't think I'm that good of an author. I know I still make mistakes, my plots aren't new and exciting - if anything they are re-used plots. I don't think there is one plot I have that I've come up with on my own. (Usually I get ideas from reading books and watching movies.)

 So, to be able to tell someone I am an author, without any hesitation, is kind of a big deal for me. For the rest of that day I tried to figure out what had lead me to saying it. What had changed that enabled me to tell a complete stranger something like that?

 I've not done anything spectacular in the last few days to bring it on. I'm still the quiet girl from a little town not too many people care about. I go to work, to school, and come home to lock myself in my room and edit and do homework. I don't even have any friends in town I can call up and ask if they'd like to go for a walk with me.
 When I was younger I thought authors had to be so famous they couldn't go out onto the streets without mobs of people surrounding them and asking for spoilers. I don't think anyone even notices me when I leave work, let alone pay any attention to me when I walk through town. I'm not getting mobbed. I'm not getting a zillion comments on my blog a day with adoring fans talking to each other and trying to guess what is going to happen next in my books.

 Very often I feel like Donna, "I'm no one special." And Peter from Narnia. "I'm from Fenchley!"
 I'm just me. I'm the Geek who quotes movies at random times. I'm probably the only one at work who watches more British TV shows than American, and who prefers old Classic shows to a lot of the popular ones out now. I'm likely the only one at school who watches My Little Pony, Friendship is Magic. (And yes, I totally just admitted to that.)
 I'm so nervous around people that whenever they talk to me I have a panic attack because I don't know what to say back. (This gets interesting at work sometimes, I stammer a lot.) I'm the one who is never seen without a book. The school nerd who is always studying.
 Me, an author? No, surely not.

 But, why was I able to call myself an author then, when he asked what I was doing?

 I've finally figured it out. It is all of you. Every one of you who reads my blog. Who comments. Who bombards me with emails. Who "ships" my characters. Who reads my books. All of my beta readers who have taken the time to pick my book apart and has helped me find what needs change while taking the time to tell me what they love about it.
 Without all of you, I wouldn't be an author. I would still be scribbling book scraps in file documents which would never see the light of day. All of you are the reason I've been in my room editing for the last month, missing out on the social life I don't have while listening to the My Little Pony soundtrack. (And yes, I admitted to that one too.) (And no, I am not complaining about my lack of social life or the editing.)

 And, to top it all off, I don't think there is a better bunch of readers in the world. All of you are fantastic and I'm pleased to be able to be your author.

 So, I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you. Without you I wouldn't be able to declare myself an author. Thank you for reading my books. For reviewing them. For reading my blog. For putting up with my quirkiness and enduring my random, oddness. Thank you for your comments and emails and for being my readers.

 You all deserve cookies. Which I shall shower upon you because you're all brilliant.

 *Now that Jack has spread some sap she is going to vanish to watch something on the creepy side because she has run out of sap.*

 Quote is from The Princess Bride because one cannot go far in life without shouting that out in their best attempt at a Spanish accent.

 Allons-y!