The Author’s Gratitude List (That Has Nothing to Do With Pumpkin Pie)

When “Thank You” Becomes a Survival Skill

Somewhere between Halloween glitter and Black Friday hysteria, November tries to remind us to be thankful. Usually that means listing things we already know — family, health, pie. But if you’re an indie author, your gratitude list looks a little… stranger.

You’re grateful for the one reader who left a review that didn’t sound like it was written by a toaster. For the friend who listened to you explain your plot for the ninth time. For coffee, obviously. But mostly, you’re grateful that despite everything — algorithms, exhaustion, comparison, doubt — you still want to write. That small, stubborn spark refuses to die.

Gratitude, it turns out, is not just polite. It’s armor.


The Quiet Magic of One Reader

Let’s be honest: in indie publishing, success is loud but progress is quiet. You’ll spend weeks shouting into the void about your book, wondering if anyone’s listening. Then one day, an email pops up: “Your story made me feel less alone.”

That single sentence can keep you going for months.

Science backs it up. Studies on gratitude and motivation (Emmons & McCullough, 2003) show that when we acknowledge small wins, our brain releases dopamine — not the kind you get from scrolling, but the lasting kind that builds resilience. Gratitude literally rewires your brain to notice meaning instead of absence.

So when that one reader messages you, screenshot it. Frame it. Let it remind you that numbers don’t measure worth; connection does.


Thankful for the Struggle

It’s easy to thank success. It’s harder to thank rejection, or the weird, echoing silence of your first book launch. But that silence taught you to speak louder, didn’t it?

Every negative review forced you to define your voice. Every formatting disaster taught you patience. Every awkward live you hosted with three viewers taught you to laugh and keep going.

The creative path isn’t supposed to be smooth — it’s a long conversation with uncertainty. Gratitude transforms it from punishment into purpose. You’re not suffering through failure; you’re gathering wisdom disguised as chaos.


The Invisible Village

Behind every “self-made” author is a small, scrappy village of helpers: editors, proofers, ARC readers, cover designers, friends who share posts, and that one cousin who buys every paperback even though she never reads romance.

They’re not in the spotlight, but they’re the heartbeat of your work. Without them, indie publishing would feel like wandering in the woods without Wi-Fi.

So this November, say thank you — publicly or privately — to your invisible village. They’ve helped you build something bigger than a book: a belief system that says stories matter.


The Gratitude Mindset (a.k.a. How to Stay Sane in Publishing)

Here’s a truth most authors avoid admitting: envy doesn’t disappear as you grow. It just gets fancier. You stop comparing yourself to beginners and start comparing yourself to bestsellers. Gratitude is the antidote.

Each time you notice someone else’s success and manage to whisper, “Good for them — and good for me, because it means stories like ours find homes,” you reclaim a piece of your peace.

Gratitude doesn’t make competition vanish. It just makes it survivable.


The Books That Broke and Built You

There’s another kind of gratitude — the one owed to your own stories.

You’ve probably written books that felt like therapy in disguise. Maybe The Widow’s Curse helped you grieve. Maybe Confessions of a Curvy Heart reminded you to laugh at the chaos of body image and love. Maybe The Billionaire’s Curvy Match showed you that even the most elaborate plots can reveal simple truths: everyone wants to be seen.

Every story you’ve written has built a piece of you back. That’s the kind of gratitude no list can capture.


When Gratitude Meets Growth

It’s tempting to think gratitude means settling — as if being thankful cancels ambition. It doesn’t. It’s the foundation that keeps ambition from eating you alive.

When you write from gratitude, you create differently. You stop chasing numbers and start nurturing relationships. You stop fearing time and start honoring process. Readers can feel that shift. They know when your words come from love instead of panic.

And the universe — or at least the algorithm — tends to reward that energy in strange, beautiful ways.


A Toast to the Unseen Effort

Here’s to the late nights when you almost gave up but didn’t.
Here’s to the half-finished drafts that taught you discipline.
Here’s to the rejections that redirected you toward something better.
Here’s to the fact that you’re still here, still writing, still dreaming.

You’ve survived another year in the wild world of indie publishing — that’s something to be thankful for.


This season, make your own gratitude list — not for the expected things, but for the messy, real ones. Tag me if you post it; I’d love to see what’s keeping you inspired.

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Let’s remind each other that gratitude isn’t about having everything — it’s about loving the wild, imperfect journey we’ve chosen.

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