My Self-Publishing Learning Curve

Five Books Published (and Counting): Lessons, Joy, and the Journey Ahead

I’m thrilled to share that my first five books have been published! Hitting “publish” felt like stepping back from a canvas after months of layering color—equal parts awe, relief, and the urge to make one more tiny brushstroke. If you’ve ever tried to turn a Word document, a thousand notes, and a beating heart into a book, you know: it’s as much craftsmanship as it is calling.

Since I first shared this journey two months ago, the shelves have filled quickly! Four more books are now in print, and by the time you’re reading this, a fifth will be live. Each release still carries that rush of awe and gratitude, but it also feels steadier—like the rhythm of a calling I’ve finally grown into.

The Self-Publishing Learning Curve (featuring one rogue front-matter heading)

When Word Fights Back: Styles, Sections, and Sanity

The learning curve? Steep—like switchbacks on a mountain you thought was a gentle hill. I discovered how easy it is for a single, sneaky heading to wander into the front matter and throw off the entire book. I didn’t notice it until after publishing. Cue the forehead slap. Word can be wonderful, but when section breaks, headers/footers, mirrored margins, and pagination collide, it can also feel like wrestling an octopus in a library. I’ve learned to treat styles like guardrails, keep a “master” style guide open, and never trust page numbers until I export to PDF and take a slow victory lap through every page.

Editing with Todd: The Missing Word After Four Passes

Editing taught me humility with a warm side of humor. After four full edits—four!—Todd still found a missing word. There’s nothing like a fresh pair of eyes (and a brave spouse) to catch what your brain keeps auto-correcting. That moment reminded me that books aren’t built by ego. They’re built by community, patience, and a willingness to be wrong today so the words can be right tomorrow.

KDP + IngramSpark: Rejections That Made Me a Better Publisher

Trim, Bleed, Fonts, Spine: What I Learned the Hard Way

Then came the gladiator arena of file preparation: Amazon KDP and IngramSpark. Both platforms have their own rules, and for good reason, but my early submissions played “pinball” through their checks. One file rejected for trim size, another for bleed. A cover bounced back because the spine width didn’t match the final page count. A PDF rejected due to unembedded fonts (thank you, Canva transparency and stray RGB images). Another flagged for color profiles and black levels not suitable for print.

Most issues were mine—overlooking a template note, exporting in the incorrect PDF standard, or failing to adjust the interior margin after adding pages. Each rejection was frustrating, yes, but it became a masterclass in professional publishing. I keep a running checklist now: confirm trim, verify bleed, embed fonts, grayscale or CMYK as required, export to PDF/X-1a when needed, validate spine, and run a last preflight before upload. Not glamorous, but it saves tears.

Why It Still Feels Like Art: Drafts, Layers, and a Final “Varnish”

In all of that, I realized that writing and publishing is like painting a fine piece of art. You start with a sketch (the outline). You add an underpainting (the rough draft) to map values and composition. Then come the layers—glazes of revision—bringing depth and harmony. The details (line breaks, kerning, captions, page numbers) are your brushwork, precise and intentional. The varnish—your final proof—seals it all. And the frame? Your cover design must fit the art perfectly. If the frame is off by a sliver, the whole piece sits wrong. But when everything aligns, the work breathes.

Why endure the technical snags and late-night re-exports? Because creation is worship for me—an offering of craft to the One who gives breath. Each obstacle sharpened my patience and deepened my gratitude. I learned to bless the process, not just the product. To slow down, to ask better questions, to reformat a chapter without grumbling, and to treat feedback like a chisel in a sculptor’s hand: sometimes it stings, but it always shapes.

I’ve also come to love the “reader-first” mindset. Books are not monuments to a writer’s effort; they are bridges for a reader’s journey. That means redoing a layout that looks “pretty” but reads poorly; swapping a poetic phrase for a clear one; and choosing paper color, leading, and font so a tired parent at midnight can find rest in the page instead of squinting at it. Excellence is hospitality in print.

What’s Next (and What Just Happened): Co-Authoring, the 365-Day Weekly RISE Journal, & Little Keepers of the Garden

The best part? The vision is growing.

In addition to The Eden Way and The Eden Way Journal, I’m currently working on a book that is being co-authored with my husband, Righteousness Restored, and together we released The Little Keepers of the Garden Anthology Series, Collection One: Seeds of Truth with its activity book companion. And the RISE 365-Day Weekly Journal—something I’ve long envisioned and prayed over—is officially going live November 3rd. Each project has stretched me differently, but all of them share the same heartbeat: creating resources that root families in faith, truth, and wholeness.

I started the children’s series these because I couldn’t find books that truly teach children about the Father—about His character, His kindness, His truth—in ways that are tender, rooted, and wise. I prayed and asked YHVH how to teach my daughter about who He is, and He answered with ideas. The ideas came—one after another—until my notebook couldn’t keep up with my heart. I am so excited to have started them.

But WAIT…There’s More!

I’m co-writing another book, a scholarly book, with my husband—words forged in shared faith, conversation, and good-natured debate around the table: Righteousness Restored. This book is presenting its own unique challenges, just by it being a scholarly work. The depth of research, the careful handling of sources, and the responsibility to balance clarity with accuracy stretch us in new ways. Unlike devotional or children’s writing, every sentence here carries the weight of theology and history, demanding footnotes, citations, and a constant return to the original languages and contexts. It’s slow work, but it feels sacred—like chiseling stone rather than sketching in pencil—because what we’re shaping is meant to stand firm, not just inspire for a moment.

Thank you for celebrating this milestone with me. If the first four books taught me anything, it’s that beautiful work is born in the tension between inspiration and iteration. I am looking forward to future writing projects—co-authoring with my husband, publishing the 365-day weekly RISE journal (goes live November 3rd, available through my store NOW!) a journal that finally tracks what matters, and launching The Little Keepers of the Garden Anthology Series for families—because these are the books I needed, the books I prayed for, and the books I believe will serve many for years to come.

Big Picture Reflection

Looking back, I can see how each book has been less about achievement and more about obedience. Every rejection, every formatting headache, every late-night rewrite has been worth it, because these aren’t just books—they’re seeds. Seeds I pray will grow into strength, truth, and encouragement for every hand that opens them.

If you’d like to explore these projects, you can find them gathered in one place in my Healthy in Heart Store (including spiral-bound editions you won’t find on Amazon or in local bookstores). It’s the best way to support this work directly, and every purchase makes it possible for me to keep creating resources for homes, families, and communities like yours.

If you couldn’t tell with all the metaphors, I am an artist of various mediums. For me, books are canvases too: places where words become brushstrokes, stories form patterns, and the final work invites others into beauty and truth.