A few years ago, I returned to writing and within a year I found myself expanding more and more with my social media accounts. They were changing and evolving with me. I was opening up more. I was finding myself.

I was also changing my opinions on publishing. With that, my dreams were changing.

I had my first novel getting ready to be published. I believed in it so much. He Was A Boy Who Smiled was not only a novel that spoke about what it was like for a gay boy growing up in a world that didn’t accept him, but how he survived it and the domestic violence. Despite the world giving him reasons not to, he always found a reason to smile. That boy was me. The book was a release of a story I wasn’t allowed to talk about for a long time. I recognised the importance of the book for others. Not only would it represent many in the LGBT+ community but it also broke the silence that many would recognise coming from a domestically violent home. My dream was ready to begin. Publish my books. See them in stores. Meet and greet my readers. I was so excited but also terrified. I didn’t think He Was A Boy Who Smiled was going to be my debut book. I usually wrote fantasy, but here I was with a book ready to get out there. And that’s when things changed for me…

I reached out for a year for literary agents and publishers in Australia. I kept getting the same thing said to me.

“No one would read this book.”

“No one knows who you are so why would they care about your memoir?”

“Young Adults don’t want to read about their lives.”

“You need to be already published if you want to be taken seriously.”

“They won’t be a commercial success.”

A year of the same thing and I was beginning to sink. Perhaps this is why victims of domestic violence stayed quiet? We weren’t believed or people weren’t willing or ready to listen. I started to believe what these publishers were saying and what these literary agents were saying. I started to believe what I believed as a kid, as a teen, as a young adult…as me.

“No one wants to hear what you have to say.”

Then someone I knew at the time said, “Why don’t you self-publish?”

I took their suggestion on board and I researched it. I could have control over my cover, the design and after working with the editor more control over what was actually in the book and the whole setup of it all.

And I’m telling you right now, as a victim of domestic violence, homophobia, sexual abuse and school bullying, it was absolutely empowering to be able to take control of my story.

I remember the thirty minutes I hovered over the publication button for the first time. In just one click, I was free.

So, were the literary agents and publications right? No. They were absolutely wrong. People read my books. They still do. I get new readers every month. I get to converse with them on social media. I’ve connected to quite a few people, some of them being young adults. Have I been taken seriously? Absolutely. I’ve been seen. I’ve been heard. Believed. Are they a commercial success? I don’t even know what they mean, really. Are they successful? Absolutely. If they wanted to make millions of me or thousands or hundreds? No, but my story is much more than dollars. Could they ever be that much of success?

Absolutely. After all, I’m the boy who smiles and I have hope and dreams and believe things will get better. Because at the end of the day, people do want to hear what I have to say after all.