What if no One Comes?

In just a few days, I’ll be standing behind a table covered in books I wrote with my whole heart. I’ll be smiling at strangers, signing copies, talking about characters I created, stories I bled into, pages I laboured over. I’ll be showing up as an author—not just online, not just in my own head, but in real life. Publicly. Fully. For the first time.

And I’m terrified.

What if no one comes?

It’s the question that’s been whispering behind every bit of excitement. Every time I pack a box of books. Every time I update my website. Every time I print a sign or think about what pen to use for signings. It’s not the only thing I’m feeling—but it’s loud.

Because this isn’t just about selling a book. It’s about showing up for a dream I’ve carried for so long, I almost started to believe it wasn’t mine to hold.

For years, I let self-doubt take the driver’s seat. I let fear make the decisions. I let the little voice in my head say, What’s the point? Who would even care? And for a long time, I listened. I made myself smaller than my ideas. I gave up before I began.

But not this time.

This time, I’ve built something. I’ve built a platform. A pen name. A growing collection of stories that matter to me deeply. And what’s happened in return has been the most unexpected, overwhelming, humbling gift—community.

The support I’ve received from the people around me has been warm in a way I never imagined. Friends—old, new, and surprise ones I never saw coming—have shown up for me. I’ve connected with other creatives. I’ve had beautiful conversations with fellow writers and readers. I’ve begun to collaborate. I’ve had people not just cheer me on, but believe in me.

This—all of this—feels like a platform not just to stand on, but to leap from.

And still… what if no one comes?

What if I stand there alone? What if the day is long and the silence louder than the doubts I’ve worked so hard to quiet? What if my dream unfolds in public… and falls flat?

These are the questions my fear wants me to cling to.

But I’m not listening to fear anymore.

Because even if the crowd is small, I’ll be there. Even if I sell one book, it will be a book that wouldn’t have existed if I hadn’t written it. If I hadn’t taken the risk. If I hadn’t said, This matters to me—and I’m brave enough to try.

And maybe someone will come. Maybe a few people will. Maybe more than I can imagine.

Maybe I’ll meet someone who needed the exact story I wrote. Maybe someone will come back and say, Your words stayed with me.

And maybe this is just the beginning.

So here I am—nervous, hopeful, scared, and showing up anyway.

Because what if no one comes?

But also—what if they do?