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by Zack Smedley

To me, one of the central themes of Pride month is the idea that we all lift each other up…empowering each others’ voices so we can all accept ourselves for who we are. That said, I wanted to share stories of a few authors who have lifted me up—and, in doing so, helped me find my voice throughout my road to publication.

Adam Silvera

The month is September 2017. I’m standing in a library in Washington D.C., with about thirty other young adults my age. Sitting up front, signing books at a table, is an author I’ve recently discovered: Adam Silvera. A few months prior, I—fresh out of college—began querying agents with my new YA LGBT project. Amid my search for comp titles, I stumbled on Adam’s novel History Is All You Left Me, which I read in one sitting.

Now, here I am at a signing of his. (I almost flaked…I figured I’d meet Adam, and he’d basically just sign my book and say hi. Okay, neat…time to do the 50-mile trip back home.) But, I ultimately figure it’s a good idea to see what a signing is like, since my summer querying has—astoundingly—just led to me signing with an agent.

I get up front, Adam says hi, and I spout off a few things about how I loved HISTORY, and am currently on sub with publishers, blah blah. I figure he’ll just say “neat” and move on. Instead, he stops what he’s doing and asks me what my book is about. I screw it up and dodge the question out of sheer embarrassment (I’m an awkward bean), so I just tell him this: “I wrote what is probably the loudest bi book out there.” I then tell him how Angie Thomas’s The Hate U Give—which I read during my revisions phase—inspired me to get off my butt and press forward with this loud, unapologetic story of my own.

At this point, Adam gives me a big high-five and says, “YES! Go, Nathan!” Then he signs my copy of They Both Die At The End: “Zack! Best of luck with the YA! More Bi Books (And movies!)”

Driving home that night, I kick myself for almost missing out on such a wonderful interaction. I mean…this author…this REAL AUTHOR…took the time to encourage me! And cheer me on! What a guy, right??

And right then, I made a little promise to myself: If I ever become a real author, I’m going to act like THAT.

Bill Konigsberg

The month is November 2018, and I’m so stressed that I haven’t slept well for weeks. The good news here—the wonderful news—is that in the past year, my agent and I secured a publishing deal for my little project, Deposing Nathan, which is about six months out from hitting shelves. Yet, everything feels like it’s imploding. Task after task is coming up as the book enters production, and while my agent and pub team are wonderful, they can only answer so many questions. I’ve never done this before.

Amid all this, I’ve begun contacting other YA LGBT authors to ask if they’d like to maybe read a copy of my book. Amid the handful of authors kind enough to say ‘yes’ is Bill Konigsberg. This is a bit surreal for me…Bill’s Openly/Honestly duology is among some of the first (not to mention best) YA LGBT books I ever read.

In the ensuing weeks, not only does Bill read my book, but he sends me praise for it, and even offers feedback. What’s more, he encourages me to send him any questions I have about the hectic process of being a first-time author.

Throughout the next year, I hit several major publishing road bumps—the kind that send me into a full-blown panic. Not only does Bill help by answering questions that I send him, but his answers are loaded with advice. He sets aside time for me. More than once.

And as I revel in this unending support from him, I get that same feeling as when I was driving home from Adam Silvera’s event: I can’t believe this author—this REAL author—is giving me the time of day. ME!

Yeah, sure, I have a publishing deal in place, but I’m HARDLY in the same circle as Bill or Adam. They’re both well-known, multi-book, really real authors. Meanwhile, I’m the lowest you can possibly get while still technically being on the same pole: on my way to being published, but with no blurbs, no reviews, no readership, no anything. A random guy with a whopping 35 followers on Twitter. A colossal nobody.

But Bill set aside time. And every time he did so, it sent me back to that same thought I had when I met Adam: If I ever become a real author, I’m going to act like THAT.

Angie Thomas

The month is June 2019, and I’m genuinely about to pass out. That’s not a euphemism—I have terrible crowd anxiety, and I’m currently in a building with twenty thousand other people. It’s ALA 2019, and I’m at my first publishing conference ever.

It’s been one month since Deposing Nathan hit bookshelves, and while it’s been cool, it’s mostly been…uneventful? Nothing in my life has changed, other than I’ve gotten snapchats of friends and family posing with copies of my book. I’m a published author now, but I’m not a real author like the folks here. Hell, I’ll be grateful if anyone even comes to my signing tomorrow.

But right now, I’m in the longest line at ALA, which is for none other than Angie Thomas. I’m holding my copy of The Hate U Give, the one that inspired me to press forward in trying to get Deposing Nathan published. I gradually make my way up front, counting down the number of people left…and, finally, I’m up.

I approach the throne.

“Hi!” says ANGIE FRICKIN THOMAS.

I start word-vomiting something like this: “Your book inspired me to try to get my book published, and I somehow did it, and tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be doing a signing at this same table. So thank you times a million.”

Her publicist captures photos of the moment I say all this.

Angie says, “Are you SERIOUS? Congratulations!”

Part of me is so reluctant to say anything—it feels like I’m making it about me, like, “hey great book; anyway, GUESS WHAT I DID.” So I quickly add, “I swear I’m not trying to sell it to you or anything.”

“Why not?” Angie says, still smiling, then cups her hands around her mouth and turns to the line behind me. “HEY EVERYONE! HE’S AN AUTHOR AND YOU SHOULD ALL BUY HIS BOOK!”

The folks closest to the front start a round of applause, and my tiny, overwhelmed self starts tearing up. Angie says, “oh, don’t cry!” and congratulates me again. I—in total shock at this point—stutter a million “thank yous”, get my phone back, and shuffle away to make room for the next person. As I do, the folks in line start chatting me up: “What’s your book about? Tell us about it!”

I’d love to say I start working the crowd, but honestly, I’m in total shock at this point and don’t get much out. I mention my signing tomorrow, and a few folks say they’ll be there. Then I excuse myself, find the nearest bathroom, and sob my fucking eyes out.

Here’s the thing: for all those years, I’d been saying to myself, “when I’m a real author…” Even being published hadn’t convinced me that I was. It was hearing Angie Thomas—Angie Thomas—say that I was. It turned around in my head again and again, Hey everyone! He’s an author!

He’s an author!

He’s an author!

All this time, all these years, and this was it. This was the moment I went from “guy who wrote a word doc that someone printed out and bound in carboard” to “guy who belongs here.”

As if that wasn’t overwhelmingly kind enough, when I get back to my car, I find that Angie posted & replied to my tweet about our experience:

I mean, Jesus Christ. All these people—Adam, Bill, Angie, and so many others—and all I wanted to say was, WHY ARE YOU HELPING ME?

But instead, I turned all those warm feelings and self-promises from over the years and Angie’s words—HE’S AN AUTHOR—into a new little personal creed: You’re an author. So act like one. So act like THEM.

So, I did.

When I sat down the next day for my first ever signing, not only were there people there…it was a whole line. And I tried to treat everyone in it like Adam and Angie treated me. When aspiring authors asked me for a signature, I wrote that I couldn’t wait to read their book someday. When I got blurb requests or DM’s in the ensuing months, I thought about how Bill set aside time to respond to me. And then I went to set aside time for others.

Holding the elevator for each other…that’s what it’s about, I think. That’s what Pride month is about, and that’s what kindness and support and love are all about. Cliched though it is, kindness creates more kindness. Because these authors have forever inspired me to embody that behavior—they taught me how to support and validate others by showing me what it feels like to be supported and validated. When someone shows you that it’s okay to be you, I believe the next step is to pass that on to others. So that’s what I’ve tried to do.

And to the multitude of folks who have since thanked me for being kind, or for taking the time to respond to you, I appreciate it. But it’s not me you should be thanking. Thank people like Adam, Bill, and Angie. I know I’ll spend the rest of my days doing so.

—

Zack Smedley was born in 1995, in an endearing Southern Maryland county almost no one has heard of. He earned a degree in Chemical Engineering from UMBC in 2017, and he currently works within the field.

As a member of the LGBT community, his goal is to give a voice to marginalized young adults through gritty, morally complex narratives. He spends his free time building furniture, baking, modifying electronic systems, and managing his obsession with Aaron Sorkin.  You can find him on twitter at @zack_smedley.