Yesterday, I told you the story behind why I chose to self-publish. My reason for sharing wasn’t to brag or to get sympathy and praise. I simply wanted you to be able to FEEL this story…

One week before I received the bad news about my cancer diagnosis, I flew to Nashville for my best friend’s birthday. I was still recovering from the biopsy surgery with a big ugly incision across my neck where they removed a tumor the size of a foosball. I wasn’t doing so great mentally because cancer’s bark is even worse than its bite, in my opinion. Not knowing was the worst part, and that day I had 2 hours of solitude to obsess over it.

And the flight was terrible, figuratively and literally. The sky was black and ominous with the deep rumble of thunder and bright flashes of lightning. It was like a scene from a Stephen King novel. (Ha!) At one point during all the turbulence, I thought for sure the plane was going to break in half and cancer would no longer be an issue. But then something amazing happened. We broke through those dark clouds, and on the other side was blue sky. Bright, blue, sunny sky.

I don’t get philosophical or overly spiritual very often, so believe me when I say I know God spoke to me. “You’re in the middle of the dark clouds, Elicia, but blue skies are on the other side. I promise.”

I have tears as I write this.

That was February. A couple of months later, in the middle of chemo, I bellyflopped into self-publishing with The Bed She Made. And in November, I published my beloved book, The Soul Summoner and it went to #1, right up there with Stephen King.

This moment meant so much more than just ranking against a superstar author.  Stephen King wrote a book called On Writing that I read religiously once a year like I belong to some weird one-woman cult. In that book he talks a lot about writing honestly. Specifically, he says to write “without regard to what the Legion of Decency or the Christian Ladies’ Reading Circle may approve of.” I never intended to publish The Bed She Made because of its content. I worried about offending people. I worried about hurting feelings. I really worried about making my mother cry.

But Stephen King told me every single year: WRITE HONESTLY. So I tossed The Bed She Made out into the giant sea of readers…and she floated. 

Needless to say, Stephen King is a big deal over here in the Hyder house.

Now for the story you’ve been waiting for.

Two weeks ago, my husband, Chris, came home from work and said, “Did you know Stephen King and John Grisham are going to be at some writers’ conference near Tampa in a couple of weeks?”

I shook my head. “That can’t be true. If it was, I would’ve heard about it.”

“Seriously, my buddy’s wife is working it. He said she might be able to get you in.”

I immediately began scouring Google. I was right and very wrong. They were coming to Florida, but it wasn’t a writers’ conference; it was a benefit for a library foundation. A small event. A sold out event that I couldn’t afford to go to even if I could get tickets. My brain started spinning. Could it be possible that I might get in?

But reality quickly began to settle. The event was on a Tuesday night, two hours away from home. The kids had mid-term exams. My husband would be working in Washington. Heartbroken, I told Chris to thank his friend profusely, but I didn’t want them to go to any trouble since there was no way I could make it.

He didn’t listen to me.

A week later, he was working in D.C. when he called me on Skype. The conversation went something like this:

“I need you to not make plans on Tuesday. You’re going to Bradenton to meet Stephen King and John Grisham. I’ve arranged for the kids to be taken care of, and your best friend is taking off work to go with you.”

And I cried like someone had just died.

Stephen King is my husband’s most favorite author. We own all of his books, most of which I’m too scared to read. And even though my husband couldn’t go, he moved mountains so I could. Did I hit the marital jackpot or what? Eat your heart out ladies, he’s all mine. I love you, babe.

There is no doubt in my mind that everything happens for a reason, which is why I told my self-publishing story before I told this one. Had I not been diagnosed with cancer, I wouldn’t have self-published my book. Had that tumor not been malignant, my husband would still be a cop and we would never have met the awesome people who made this night happen. Had I not gone through chemo, I never would have made this amazing new sister-friend who went with me. She was my oncology nurse–she literally saved my life.

How beautiful is the view of hindsight? You never know what brilliant light may be waiting on the other side of your darkest, most ominous and terrifying moments. You could be on the verge of all your dreams coming true and you just don’t know it yet. Never give up hope. Blue skies await.

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On January 19th 2016, a boggling mix of Chris Hyder, Wendy and Eric, fate, a library, and Jesus made one of my biggest dreams a reality.

I got to tell Stephen King this same story and thank him–in person–for helping me get to that #1 spot just above his book. He hugged me and said “Congratulations.”

He was totally gracious and laughed when I showed him the screenshot of our books on the Amazon best seller list.Then the photographer said, “I want to get a photo of the three best selling authors,” and I was sandwiched between Stephen King and John Grisham, cheesing like my preteen daughter at a One Direction concert. They are the Elvis and John Lennon of the literary world, after all.

THANK YOU to everyone who made this night possible: Chris, Wendy (the awesome photographer), Eric, Rena, Luis, Becky, Natalie, Stephen King, John Grisham, my kiddos, and the Manatee Library Foundation. And THANK YOU to everyone who has read and supported my books over the past six months. Who knows? I might not be here without YOU!

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Photos by Wendy Dewhurst at www.blahblahblahonline.com/