My second novel, Reunion, went on sale this week. It is, as they say, out now wherever books are sold. It looks gorgeous, early reviews are great, it has co-op placement in the major chains; all is well.

I know I sound calm now, but you should've seen me thirteen months ago when I was a debuting novelist, something akin to a nervous parent sending her firstborn to full-day kindergarten. that novel, Souvenir, was like a precocious child: capable, attractive, and thought to be a little above-average-- due to its having sold at auction and also to some nine or ten foreign publishers. Even before its release here in the U.S., I'd achieved my long-held dream of being able to write full time. All that remained to be seen was how well my first baby would be received.

I knew (and you aspiring novelists should take note) that first novels- even those that get lots of pre-publication "buzz" and amazing publisher support- rarely draw enough publicity to become best sellers. So-called Women's Fiction, which is what I write, has a particularly tough time of it despite its popularity and demand. I didn't expect Oprah to call, I didn't expect major media interest, and I didn't expect a glitzy book tour attended by eager throngs like the ones I've seen for Nicholas Sparks. In fact, I didn't expect anything; I hoped that the book's intended readers would find the book and love it, and tell their friends. I hoped to get a good start at what I hope will be a long and enjoyable career.

The letters from readers started arriving in my inbox almost as soon as the book went on sale. Lovely, heartfelt notes of congratulations and gratitude- gratitude!- sometimes written in the wee hours when that reader had just finished the book. One such reader emailed via cell phone so that she didn't have to wait for her computer to boot up! People were buying copies to share with their mothers, their daughters, their sisters, their aunts. They were passing their copies around to their office mates, they were promoting it to their book groups. They wrote to say they'd been inspired to make long-overdue changes in their lives. A few said they'd stolen their library copy and would happily pay the fine.

I was in new-novelist heaven.

Some might say that getting onto the NYT Best Seller List is new-novelist heaven, and I don't dispute that. But that's a different sort of goal, and not, in my opinion, the one that should motivate writers to sit at their keyboards every day. As I once read on a highly successful author's website (and darned if I can recall whose, it was years ago), first and foremost writers must "remember the reader!" Please your readers, and you'll have done 90% of what it takes to reach that other worthy goal- albeit over time rather than as a first-at-bat home run, but in a lot of ways that's the better route.

Thirteen months ago I was a newbie; now I'm a little more seasoned, a little more secure, a lot more knowledgeable, and no less thrilled to be doing what I love most. The work doesn't get any easier. The insecurities don't go away. I do keep my eye on the NYT list, and would love to see my name there one day. There is nothing, though, more fulfilling than hearing from a satisfied reader- except perhaps knowing that I get the chance to satisfy them again this time next year.
-Therese Fowler