THE FIRST OF MANY SOMEDAYS

Or, When Two Decades of Manifesting Comes True

I had a DAY yesterday, my friends.

This week, I experienced yet another bout of bad CAR-ma (you may recall my battery died and I also hit a pothole and had to get a tire replaced) when my neighbor came in hot and plowed into my driver’s side in our underground parking garage.

He left me a note—props, Nick!—and I dropped it off at the body shop yesterday. I’m in a rental for the next three or so weeks while my Jetta gets her makeover. I’ll be driving a Nissan Altima, all of it covered by Nick’s insurance, huzzah! Enterprise told me to return it with an empty tank, even! It’s a zippy little car and has Oklahoma plates, which makes me think of Steve Martin in “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” running around yelling “Oklahoma! Oklahoma!” over and over.

ANYWAY, after I got back from that not-very-interesting task, I did something WAY more interesting:

I went to visit The Sound of Settling at Powell’s, aka the World’s Greatest Bookstore.

There’s no way to count how many times I’ve walked those color-coded rooms and thought about how someday, my book would live in the Blue Room, where the Fiction books are, right off of the main entrance on Burnside. I’ve been in there as part of an all-female anthology called Nasty! (currently out of stock), but I dreamed of having my own book, my own name on the cover and the spine, nestled on the shelves, maybe with one of those staff shelf tags encouraging browsers to become buyers.

Someday my book will be here, over and over as a manifestation, a litany, a promise to myself during the hardest fucking times when success seemed as far away as Jupiter. No matter how much things sucked outside of Powell’s, once inside I would inhale that book smell and say to myself, Someday.

I would take my sons there as they grew up and became voracious readers like their mother. Someday my book will be here, I would tell them. And those sweethearts echoed my words, fervently grasping my hands as we walked through the Rose Room, the Orange Room, and the Blue Room.

When I was still attempting to find a boyfriend (there’s another book right there), I would often have first dates at Powell’s and walk the aisles to share favorite books. It’s a great way to get to know someone. And I would tell them, Someday, my book will be here too.

No one I said this to took me very seriously. Not in real life, not on Facebook. Because two decades of saying Someday gets old.

But then I decided to pass the early months of the lockdowns answering the “Whys” and “Hows” of my Dave Grohl story.

After three years of fruitless submissions to agents, I began this crazy and often frustrating self-publishing roller coaster ride.

Someday someone will see this untapped goldmine potential and sign me, I told myself stubbornly every time another rejection came in (and I’m still telling myself that, but that someday is still in the future). I dealt with printing errors and small fonts and paying to give people replacement copies when I couldn’t afford to because this book meant more to me than anything I’ve ever written in my life.

I’ve now sold 618 copies via Amazon, both in paperback and on Kindle. The (real, non-MAGA) reviews are smashing. I keep hoping for a big social media boost, like a viral TikTok or a retweet from Stephen King.

But I wanted it in Powell’s. If you have your book there, you’re a REAL writer. It’s major status here in Portland, but plenty of people who don’t live here know that Powell’s is THE bookstore standard.

And so I slogged through the tedious process on Ingram Spark, which has very narrow specifications. My friend Thad was a tremendous help, and offered his free editing services to wrassle it into the PDF they required because he loved the book so much.

Once it was approved, I could then submit it to Powell’s, to other bookstores, to libraries.

It took a few weeks, but then two days ago I checked the website and saw this.

I ugly cried so much when I saw that. I went over as soon as I could, but I had to wait for it to be shelved.

So Someday was yesterday.

@taradublinrocksMY #BOOK IS IN THE BEST #BOOKSTORE EVER!!! @Powell’s Books #greenscreen #indieauthorsoftiktok #signtara #foofighters #davegrohl #fanfic

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It kills me at a cellular level that it went out without a title page. But that’s a tiny thing compared to what I see as a huge accomplishment.

It’s also going to be in three different branches of the Multnomah County Library. Someone already has a hold placed at the main Downtown branch. WOO HOO!

Writing a book is definitely something to be proud of, and I am. Writing a book that people have responded to so positively is another level of joy. Getting it into my favorite bookstore in the world is surreal. Finding the Yes People to help me take it to the next level will be another dream realized.

Someday, I’ll have that proper publishing deal so I get a proper mass-market version of The Sound of Settling. And then you can read the follow-up, Heavy Meddling.

Someday, I’ll get the option to adapt it into a streaming series with at least two seasons.

It feels closer than ever. But for now, I’m going to enjoy this moment. I willed The Sound of Settling into existence. I made this happen.

Someday, you’ll be sitting on your couch watching the opening credits for the first episode of The Sound of Settling, and you’ll remember how I told you this would happen.

Someday.