What a Slightly Chaotic Week Taught Me About Social Media (and Bookmarks)
There are weeks where everything feels calm, considered, and beautifully planned.
This was not one of those weeks.
This was a “replying to emails with one hand, designing bookmarks with the other, and wondering why my printer suddenly has opinions” kind of week.
Somewhere between sorting ARC bits, planning events, tweaking covers, and attempting to understand why social media behaves like a moody teenager, I realised something quite important…
None of us actually knows what we’re doing.
We’re just doing it anyway.
And honestly, that’s quite comforting.
Over the last few days, I’ve been deep in the world of author life behind the scenes. Not the dreamy writing-in-a-candlelit-room version. The real one. The slightly chaotic, biscuit-fuelled, “why does this image look perfect on screen but like a shadowy crime scene when printed?” version.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
Social media is a strange little world
You can spend ages crafting something thoughtful and… silence.
Then post something slightly off-the-cuff, and suddenly people are there, chatting, engaging, connecting.
It’s less about perfection and more about presence.
And possibly timing. And luck. And whatever mood the algorithm woke up in that morning.
People connect with people, not polish
The posts that felt the most like me—a bit honest, a bit imperfect—those are the ones that landed.
Not the overly thought-out ones.
Not the ones I expected to do well.
Just the real ones.
Which is both freeing and slightly inconvenient if you enjoy overthinking everything.
There is always one unexpected problem
This week it was card thickness.
Not plot holes. Not character arcs. Card.
You think you’re doing something simple—like printing bookmarks—and suddenly you’re deep into GSM, printer limits, and questioning all your life choices.
Writing a book? Fine.
Printing it nicely? Apparently a full subplot.
Progress doesn’t always look neat
It looks like half-finished designs.
Notes everywhere.
Ideas that felt brilliant yesterday and questionable today.
But it is still progress.
And when you zoom out, you realise how much is actually moving forward, even if it feels messy in the moment.
It’s actually quite fun (even when it’s a bit chaotic)
Because behind all of it—the posts, the printing, the planning—is something I care about.
The stories.
The people reading them.
The little community that’s slowly building.
Even on the days where nothing quite goes to plan, there is still something really lovely about it.
So if you’ve seen me popping up a bit more, testing things, trying things, and occasionally questioning my printer…
That’s why.
We’re building something here.
Not perfectly.
But properly.
And I think I like it that way.
If you’re following along on this slightly chaotic journey, I’d love to have you in my reader community.
