That these readers were moved by the novel–well, their responses moved me. This manuscript had ground me down into paper dust and dried ink and made me wonder if I’d edited out the emotional depth that I felt when I drafted it initially. This acknowledgment that I didn’t absolutely screw up was a gift of kindness from those readers.
I am weary today. I cried (ugly, of course) over the tweet. I’m still a little dazed about it, wondering if this is the start or the end and being grateful that it happened at all.
However, I think I’ll not worry about choosing to quit or to continue my writing career for a few days. The deafening silence was broken, and that makes today a very good day for this author.