Turns out caffeine + chaos = a book. Who knew?

You can buy it here 👉 https://amzn.to/4fXmDko

I Accidentally Published a Book. Oops.

So, it happened. My first book is out in the world. Rom Com Published. Official. Done. It’s out there wandering the wilderness of the internet, wearing its little digital shoes, trying to find kind readers who will give it shelter, coffee, and maybe a good review.

I wish to go to bed and sleep for a few days because my patience is running out. Wake up next Friday and see if at least five books have been bought.

How do I feel? Imagine a tiger with a squint being released from a cage after 30 years. Except the tiger has no idea how to hunt, is slightly addicted to caffeine, and keeps asking, “Do I look fat in this cover font?” That’s me right now.

Writing has always been my comfort zone. Talking? Sure, I can talk non-stop (ask literally anyone who’s ever met me). But writing… writing is different. With words on a page, you can edit, delete, rewrite, pretend that typo never existed, and look way smarter than you do in real life. It’s like having a second chance at being witty, except without someone rolling their eyes at you in real time.

Back in May or April

I decided to start a blog. Just for myself. My brain was overflowing with too much chaos, and typing it out felt like therapy—except free, no awkward small talk, and no one charging me £60 an hour. I didn’t expect anyone to read it. But then, slowly, people started showing up. They even commented. On my nonsense! Imagine my surprise when my ramblings actually entertained someone other than myself. Honestly, the fact that I could make someone smile with my silly posts felt better than winning the lottery. Though, to be clear, if anyone wants to hand me a winning ticket, I won’t say no. My future plan was to win millions and buy a yacht anyway, even though I get uncomfortable on any boat. But the image of me in a bikini after several plastic surgeries, wearing a big hat at sea, reminds me that you have to dream of the most absurd things.

After a while, the thought struck me: maybe this could be a book. Not a Lord of the Rings type saga with ten languages, maps, and appendices. More like something you throw in your beach bag, read with a coffee, or open during a lazy evening where a box of melted ice cream lies next to you and an empty small bag of chips. When Netflix is asking, “Are you still watching?” and you’re too ashamed to click “yes.”

So I wrote it

Just two weekends. That’s all it took. Not because I’m some literary genius (spoiler: I am not AT ALL), but because the story had been squatting in my brain for months rent-free, and it finally demanded its deposit back. Of course, then came the endless hours of editing, formatting, cover designing, screaming at Canva, and wondering if the color of the paper: white? cream? eggshell? (WHO CARES) would actually ruin my entire new career.

Let’s not even talk about promotion. Apparently, writing a book is the easy part. Selling it? That’s black magic. I'm hopeless at this, a typical millennial who uses a computer to send an important email or buy a plane ticket, printing it out of course because they don't trust QR codes in apps. I had to make posts for social media, write descriptions, and smile like I knew what I was doing, when in reality I was just stress-Googling, “Do authors need a TikTok?”

But here’s the thing: I did it.

Me. A girl from a tiny town, raised in the mess of an alcoholic household, somehow managed to end up abroad thanks to my super brother, married to a husband who pushes me forward, and — despite being constantly shadowed by self-doubt — actually published a book. If you think about it, that’s wild.

Will my book sell thousands of copies? No idea. Will I become the next bestseller, sipping champagne on a yacht while signing autographs? Unlikely. Also, I get seasick, so let’s not romanticize it too much. But honestly, I don’t need that. The fact that I’ve made it this far is already a victory. Something Big for me, a milestone.

Because success isn’t just sales or charts. Success is knowing someone, somewhere, close here, or maybe on the other side of the earth is laughing, smiling, or maybe snorting coffee out of their nose while reading my words. Success is hitting “publish” despite being terrified. Success is proving to myself that fear doesn’t get to be in charge anymore.

So yes, my book is out. You can buy it, gift it, or even use it as a coaster if that’s your thing, though I recommend reading it first. And if you enjoy it, you’ll have made this awkward, caffeinated, overly talkative debut author the happiest person alive.

Now excuse me while I go hide under a blanket and pretend I’m not refreshing the sales page every five minutes.

Here’s the link 👇

English version: https://amzn.to/4oQSw2a

Polish version: https://amzn.to/4mQOCV1

I’ll be forever grateful for any clicks, shares, or even just pretending you’ve read it 😉

Wish me luck on this debut adventure!