Becoming a published author threw me into an existential spiral

The random gifts of getting what you want

Like many writer, I’m often asked how I got my start. What is my “writing journey.” Why did I “decide” to become a writer? What was the initial inspo for all the triumph and heartbreak and failure and success that (hypothetically) was to come?

I’m a reader, I’ll explain; all writers are readers. I love stories, I’ll offer; I wanted to tell my own. I wanted to see my many identities – Muslim, woman, South Asian, eldest-daughter-of-immigrants, Canadian – represented in an authentic and nuanced way.

What no one ever asks is: what happened AFTER the book deal? AFTER the first book, second book, etc.? What keeps me going NOW?

Writers know that publishing is a challenging industry, to say the least. What I didn’t know, before my first book was published, was how much becoming a writer would completely change my sense of self.

Before I was published, I was a public high school teacher, mum of two, wife, daughter, cousin, niece, member of a community. I was content. I had hobbies. I loved to read. I dabbled in writing, when I could find the time.

Flash forward to 2024, six years after my debut novel, AYESHA AT LAST (a very funny retelling of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice set in a close-knit Toronto Muslim community) came out, followed by three other books, and I am now an occasional teacher, have no extra time, my hobby has become my job, and I usually have several deadlines I’m avoiding (hence this substack post).

This is not a complaint, exactly. It’s more a grappling to accept that achieving your dreams, while delightful, can have the unexpected side effect of upending your entire life.

By fulfilling said dream, I had lost the yearning and focus on a tangible goal, and I soon realized I had no idea what I wanted to do next.

Before I started on the road to publishing, before I had even queried an agent or finished writing my first novel, I wrote out a “worst case scenario,” (which should tell you everything you didn’t want to know about me):

What will happen if no one wants to publish my book?

My book dies. Not immediately, but slowly, in bits and bytes and dribs and drabs. Pretty soon my characters are a distant memory, and the reason I took an entire year off work, sacrificing a year’s pay, an entire year where I focused on this one thing I wanted more than anything else, is gone. And I’m left with a sad dream that only makes me bitter. And then I decide to never write again. And I don’t. Whenever fresh eyed students come to me with their big dreams and hopes for the future, I tell them that it will all come to nothing, so don’t bother.

Writing the above actually made me feel better, and it gave me the courage to send out those queries to literary agents, which led to offers of representation, which led to my book being submitted to editors, which led to my first book deal, which changed my life.

And kickstarted my existential crisis.

I am now a writer with a bio and an Artist’s CV, ISBN numbers, even a few movie options. It’s awesome. I love it. But as someone who spent most of their adult life thinking about themselves in one way, it was a shock to realize that through the process of publishing, I had become someone else entirely, in a remarkably short time.

Now friends tease me, calling me “famous” (we all know I’m not). After Mindy Kaling optioned my second book, Hana Khan Carries On, one of my friends, who has known me since middle school, joked: “How did our nerdiest friend suddenly become our coolest friend?” (not cool, still a nerd). I am regularly reassured by acquaintances that I am still “down to earth” and that my success (such as it is) has not gotten to my head, or changed me at all.

All of these comments drive me crazy, because fundamentally I have changed. I am not the same person I was before I published: I am both much happier and also more insecure, more confident and also more anxious, softer and also more prickly, than I ever thought I could be.

The dream I had for myself, upon being realized, widened my world in ways I never anticipated, and as someone who likes a quiet, stable, predictable life, the whole experience has been considerably unnerving.

Now I have four books published, a few under contract, plus other projects on the go. I’m on my way to leaving my day job, which means that soon, I will no longer have a safety net, or know with any certainty what my working life will look like in the future. I understand and accept that this ongoing uncertainty is the toll I must pay for making my wildest dreams come true.

In some respects, I have become used to my ongoing existential crisis; flailing about, wondering what to do next, is my new state of being. Be careful what you wish for, indeed.

Until next time, friends.

Uzma J

My books!

If you’ve enjoyed this post, you might enjoy my other work. I write hilarious, swoony, feel-good rom-coms that feature South Asian, Muslim Canadians:

Ayesha At Last

– Pride and Prejudice retelling set in a cosy Toronto neighbourhood, featuring quirky South Asian family, secrets, and lots of heated glances. Buy links: Canada United States UK

Hana Khan Carries On

Hana Khan Carries On – enemies to lovers, fated mates, rival halal restaurant owners, podcasting, and delicious food. Optioned for film by Mindy Kaling and Amazon Studios. Buy links: Canada United States UK

Much Ado About Nada

Much Ado About Nada – the New York Times said “it was, in a word, brilliant.” Persuasion retelling, with angsty yearning, speed dating, hilarious Muslim rockstars, redemption. Buy links: Canada United States UK

Three Holidays and a Wedding (co-written with Marissa Stapley)

Three Holidays and a Wedding – A Good Morning America buzz pick, it’s a multi-faith holiday romcom! Christmas, Hanukkah and Ramadan rep, with two love stories for the price of one. Buy links: Canada United States UK

Have questions or want to share? Email me at ujalaluddin@outlook.com or insta @uzmajalaluddin

To find out more: www.uzmajalaluddin.com

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