We're Not Starting Over

Finding My Way Back to the Author Life

Hello readers,

Yep, I’m addressing this one right to you.

It feels weird writing to you again like this, however, I can’t lie. It kind of feels like showing up to a dinner party I excitedly RSVP’d to months ago and ghosted again and again (especially if you are here from Instagram— oops).

But here I am.

So, maybe I need another introduction?

Hi, I’m Kendra Mase. I’m a self-published author who writes about heartbreak, healing, and all the messy, real-life moments in between perfectly bound within the contemporary romance genre (as of now—but we’ll talk about that another time).

You can check out my work at kendramase.com. But honestly, right now, I’m here to talk.

No pitch. Just honesty.

We like it that way here on Substack and in our newsletters, don’t we?

This post is a little bit of a reset. A check-in. A confession, maybe? Though that seems just a tad foreboding, so maybe not that exactly. Overall, there’s a question for myself that I know a lot of creators face when we return to art, especially when it’s been a while.

Now what?

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What Happened?

In short the answer is kind of simple, though the internal monologue is a lot less so. Brains are messy that way.

But the simple answer? I stopped showing up.

For a while, I let my writing world go quiet. My newsletter, my socials, the marketing work for my books— the real dream. I let it fade. Partly because I was tired. Partly because life pulled me in other directions. And partly because… I started to wonder if anyone would really notice.

Spoiler: no one really did.

BUT

Bigger Spoiler: I noticed.

Writing stopped feeling like something I could share. My books that I’ve already published felt less like something I was proud of and more like something I did and pushed out one or two a year.

The whole idea of being an author and writer when I didn’t have a strong backbone of readers became a quiet, internal thing that I struggled over. And the longer I stayed away, the harder it has been to come back as completely and as whole as I once was and believed myself to be.

But nothing changes if nothing changes, right?

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What Now?

Rebuilding an author platform—especially as an indie—isn’t just about "getting back into it." It’s not that simple for so many reasons.

It’s about deciding what getting back into it even means.

Here’s where I’m at:

Option 1: I Can Pick Up Where I Left Off

Simple, right? This sounds nice in theory, but honestly, that version of me had systems that no longer serve who I am now. Not only that, but what I was doing befor wasn’t working then, so really, would it work now?

Probably not.

So, I can’t come back that way. This cannot be a copy-paste job. (Though I wish I could be). But I can look at what was working and start small from there, I think. I can try to reconnect with the people who’ve read my work. Reconnect with writers that I talked to online and since sort of… sadly disappeared from.

Re-establish a rhythm.

Option 2: I Can Start Over Completely

I’ve thought about this. A lot. I mean, who hasn’t wanted to begin again. Start over quite in the biggest of ways. Even a young me wanted this often when she desperately wanted to run away to a new school, move, or just have a great adventure unlike the one that she currently lived all the time.

Which probably was what drew me to writing in the first place.

But I could do it now, if I wanted to. Have a complete creative reset. Rebuild my author platform. I could create a new name. Start completely over with clean slate. Zero followers. Zero readers. But also zero books in the backlog.

Rebrand. Rebuild. Make a fresh entrance like nothing ever happened.

Like I and ever version of myself since I first announced that I was going to self-publish my first novel that I don’t really talk about a whole lot, The Strings that Hold Us Together, in 2021, never happened.

Some days, that feels incredibly tempting. It’s like burning the house down I built with my own two hands instead of just trying to fix the plumbing, right?

But… deep breathes. Throw out the metaphorical matches.

I’m not doing that. At least not yet.

Option 3: I Can Ask for Help (aka This Post Among Other Things)

This is me reaching out. I need help growing again. I need support—from readers, from fellow creatives, from anyone who believes in stories and second (or fifth) chances. If you've read my work and it meant something to you—share it. If you’re just finding me now, welcome. I hope to earn your time.

This is me, rebuilding in public. Asking instead of assuming people will find me if I just keep shouting into the void (it becomes super tiring doing that all the time). Showing up instead of hiding.

Even though I don’t always want to. Even though it’s probably the best and worst choice. Even though it may take me some time to rebuild as I am working on it at this very moment.

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Why I’m Not Starting Over (Even Though I Really, Really Want To Sometimes. Seriously.)

Like I said, there’s something really alluring about jumping back to a clean slate. A new name. A new brand. No baggage. No ghosts of posts you haven’t made or people who’ve forgotten your name when you took an unintentional break and have now checked your KDP account to realize that no one is really reading when you’re gone anyway.

I’ve fantasized about it a lot, just wiping the slate clean and pretending this version of me never dropped the ball.

But here’s the truth and where I think we need to go from here.

Views lately - getting back into reading, journaling, and interacting with all of you online.

I’ve already built something. Maybe it’s dusty. Maybe it needs some love. Maybe it is super messy and not at all what I hope its end product will be.

But it’s mine.

My stories. My voice. My name.

Starting over would erase the people who did read. Who did connect. Who will.

It would erase the growth I fought for, the moments I was proud of, even when I felt invisible. It would erase the books I’ve created ever getting the readers they still may deserve (my recent novels more than others perhaps, but still).

And maybe most importantly: starting over would let the fear win. The timeline of me ever becoming a full-time author falter.

And I don’t want to do that anymore.

So no. I’m not starting over. I’m starting forward.

Cheesy? Yep. But here we are. Embrace it.

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Here’s what I’m dreaming of…

I am hoping…

• That this post reaches someone who needs to hear it. Maybe another author, maybe a reader. Maybe you.

• That I can slowly rebuild a community of people who want raw, honest stories—and who don’t mind a little mess along the way.

• That I’ll feel joy again in the parts of being an author that used to make me feel alive—creating, connecting, sharing.

• That you’ll stick with me, even as I figure this out in real time.

What Comes Next?

I’m going to be showing up here on Substack more regularly—posts about the writing life, updates on new books (yes, they’re in the works! So many of them in fact that I don’t if I’ll actually be able to finish everything which is also a different kind of writers dilemma), behind-the-scenes looks at my process, and the stuff no one likes to talk about but everyone feels.

Like maybe this. Or this.

I might ask questions. I might ask for your thoughts. I hope we can talk like old friends at book club. Or new ones. The ones with good snacks, wine from the grocery store brought strictly by how pretty the label was, and more life experience to build on and share without judgement but plenty of laughter.

If you want to be part of this next chapter, please subscribe. Or join the chat where I’ve been having reading and writing check-ins to be there for each other from the highs to the lows.

If you already are subscribed, share, comment—anything that says “Hey, I see you still! Working hard! Determined! Probably a little stupidly ambitious! You still have a chance at making this dream of authorship happen, and I’ll help you prove it.”

Because I see you too. And I want this to be a space for us, not just me. And You all at Substack have been so kind as I rambled and baked and worked on what exactly was keeping me from being the person I’ve been as a writer.

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Thanks for Still Being Here

Whether this is your first time reading my words or you’ve been with me from book one. Thank you.

Truly. It means the world.

Here’s to second chances, and to not burning it all down.

Yet, anyway ;)

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