Contractually Obligated

“Bound by my name, only.”

Winter 2025

Shortly after signing on with that publisher, I gathered up enough nerve to introduce myself to a famous local author. I had always wanted to meet her, but never felt as if I was in good enough standing as a writer to do so. Plus, I would physically cringe when imagining these words coming out of my mouth, “Hi, my name is Kathy Ricard and I’m an aspiring writer.”

WAIT! Hold on! Back up! 

I dropped the word aspiring way back in April 2024. When I attended a virtual writing conference broadcast from Las Vegas, NV, hosted by the Henderson Writer’s Group and met the inspirational and very uplifting soul, MM (aka Peggy) Finck, from The Query Quill. During her virtual class, she quickly removed “aspiring” from my vocabulary when she ordered her audience to stand up virtually and claim that “WE are, in fact, writers!”

Ms. Maureen Ulrich, the author of the Winds of Change series, greeted me warmly at her book launch on October 16^th, 2024, in Lampman, Saskatchewan, exactly one year before my book’s scheduled release date (another universal sign?). She is a retired schoolteacher and, to my utter delight, proceeded to school me on what to expect when becoming a published author. I gladly ate up every morsel of advice she fed me. She even wrote in one of her novels which I happily purchased: “To my writing bestie! Enjoy the journey!” I was absolutely thrilled.

Not that I had any doubt. Ms. Ulrich was right; “it was going to be a lot of hard work.” I hunkered down to complete my first arduous assignment in publishing; editing. I edited, then edited, then edited some more. Did I mention I edited? The universe then put in my direct path the lovely and talented Mary-Ellen Bromwell, an author herself. Mary-Ellen guided me through my carelessly written tense, poorly placed commas, and pointed out my fragmented sentences, ever so kindly.

The next step in the publishing process? I was tasked with contacting fellow authors or professionals in the literary community to politely ask them to read my manuscript and—if they were wanting—write a short blurb about my book after reading it. 

Another daunting task that would leave me feeling exposed and doubting my writing ability for the umpteenth time since the summer of 2022.

It just made perfect literary sense—to me anyway—to email and politely request the host of the CBC radio show Somebody Knows Something to read my now completed book. A Canadian true crime podcast that had reported the details of Kerrie’s unsolved murder in Season 5. Who would know better about the subject and, possibly, may be interested in a different perspective—a different point of view? Mr. David Ridgen, a “professional” journalist, responded by requesting that I reach out to Kerrie’s family first—I understood his reasoning but was apprehensive about the idea. 

Why hadn’t I reached out to Kerrie’s brother while writing the book? He had been in the public spotlight for decades, seeking his sister’s killers.

After several attempts, he eventually returned my call. An hour into our five-hour conversation, I understood my writer’s reasons for instinctively not reaching out to him before. His motivation when it came to his sister was made clear to me when he went over every forensic detail in the unsolved murder case. His life’s purpose was catching Kerrie’s monsters. I sat quietly grateful that we had not spoken before—If only because his life’s ambition may have inadvertently blocked that beacon of light that I had written to.

He did graciously accept my apology for not letting him know about my book sooner, if for no other reason out of respect for him and his family. I also admitted another reason for not reaching out—I knew Kerrie, but I did not know him, and he was subsequently not in my book. We ended the call with him insistent that I send him the manuscript as well. 

The next day—after receiving permission from my publisher—I sent the manuscript only to Mr. Ridgen, respectfully requesting that The Deafening Sound of Sorrow go no further than Mr. Brown.

A couple of days later, I received Mr. Ridgen’s perplexing response; “I cannot participate in the book’s production. Thanks for sending, but I will not read the manuscript.”

Book’s production? My book was already produced…

I paused for a moment to ponder his personal response to my professional request. When suddenly that regal lady’s voice from my creative writing class whispered in my ear once again, “Maybe he thinks it was not my story to tell?”  Maybe.

Regardless of my bewilderment with what to do with an answer to a question I did not ask, I was not literary devastated. And much like Ms. Dion so powerfully sang, my heart would go on and, because I signed a binding contract…so too would my book. 

As I write this, I have absolutely no idea if they even read The Deafening Sound of Sorrow—OR, if they possibly, maybe, most likely shared my book with others—and after Mr. Ridgen’s rather curt reply, I didn’t feel the professional need to pursue the matter any further.

The most debilitating step when moving on to the marketing process was me. Or rather, marketing me! Who did I think I was? And what in the universe’s name did I have to offer the literary world except for the words I wrote in my debut book? 

Maybe a blog series detailing my trials and tribulations of being a wannabe writer to becoming a published author? My heart whispered to my fingertips.

Create an author’s website. I can do that. Check. 

A Facebook page. Another Facebook page? One where I declare myself an author? Okay, fine—check. 

An Instagram page. Really? 

A twitter account? Seriously? 

Also, submit my polished manuscript to the following blah blah blah in order for your book to be considered for an award? Isn’t that like putting the cart before the horse? I couldn’t wrap my swirling brain around getting an award for my book that wasn’t even published yet. So, I pushed that one to the bottom of the list and got busy tackling the rest of that detailed to-do list—one bullet at a time.

Besides feeling duped by that professional CBC reporter when I willy-nilly handed over my manuscript—in my opinion—I trudged purposefully forward on my publishing journey…simply because I was now contractually obligated to do so.

Coming up next: Write What You Mean and Mean What You Write (spoiler alert: A simple concept, one would think.)