To be very honest, I'm Tired.

To be very, very honest, I am very, very tired.
I was running on pure adrenaline and didn’t even know it.

When I decided in January to finally launch Out of Sync, after putting the idea off for the longest time, I threw myself into it completely. Something was intoxicating about making that decision, like a switch had flipped. One day, it was an idea I wasn't sure I wanted to execute; the next, I was already executing it.

As a one-person author, everything fell on me. And I’m not saying that as a complaint, I’m saying it because it’s the truth, and the truth matters here. I edited the book. Formatted it. Designed the covers, which quietly became a project within the project because I kept going back to my personal assistant (well, that's what I'd call him *inserts laughing emoji*) to ask about fonts, colours, versions, feedback, revisions, and starting over. I built the website from scratch (after struggling with it since December 2025). I ran the ARC programme, sent copies, followed up, waited, followed up again. I designed every graphic for posts, wrote every caption, edited every piece of content that went out, all while showing up to a full-time job every single day without missing a beat. The only thing I didn't do myself was the playlist curation, and all thanks to Professor X for that.

In all of these, Amazon has refused to release the physical copy of my book due to technical issues on their end.

But somehow, I love doing this. I love creating, writing, and being an author. There’s a particular satisfaction in building something with your own hands and watching it take shape slowly. I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything.

Then came the launch itself.

I scouted and booked the venue. Managed the event flow. Sorted the snacks. Picked up the books from delivery and inspected every single copy myself, because, of course, I had to. Sent copies to bookstores. Submitted them to the national library. Shuffling between two states. Attended work events in between. Had my radio interview. Still chased down Advance readers—some still haven’t replied, and honestly… lol. Every moving part, I was moving it.

On the day of the event, everything felt surreal. People showed up. The book was real and in their hands. All those months of quiet, relentless work had become something tangible that now existed in the world. I remember feeling like I was floating just slightly above the ground.

And then the event ended. I sent the final thank-you message to everyone who came. And I dropped.

Three weeks have passed since the launch, and I’m still finding my footing. The exhaustion isn’t just physical, though it is that too.

Writing, which has always come naturally to me, suddenly feels like I'm doing something I've never done before. I’ve managed to edit a few pieces of content and a YouTube video, and some days that felt like enough of a win to hold onto. But my creative well feels dry in a way I haven’t known before, and I’m trying to sit with that instead of fighting it.

I have two more releases to finish this year. The books are essentially ready; I just need to go in and touch a few things up. But every time I open the documents, I close them again. All because I can't bring myself to do anything. It feels like I'm trying to lift a weight that is heavier than me.

I’m writing this not because I want sympathy, and not because I regret any of it. I’m writing it because sometimes you need to say a thing out loud, or in this case, put it somewhere you can come back to. So, this is me doing that.

Because here’s what I keep coming back to:

I chose this. Every late night, every revision, every work-in-progress, every outline, every little idea, I chose it. And I would choose it again. That part hasn’t changed. What has changed is my understanding of what it actually costs, and how little I prepared for it.

Nobody really talks about the after. We talk about the grind, the hustle, the launch-day nerves, the relief when it finally goes live. But not the weeks that follow, when the noise dies down, and you’re left alone with yourself and the quiet feels almost too loud. Not the strange grief of finishing something you gave everything to. Not the way your body keeps the score long after your mind has moved on.

The crash wasn’t a sign that something went wrong. It was the inevitable exhale after months of holding my breath. And I’m learning slowly that rest is not the opposite of productivity. It’s the foundation of it. That stillness is not the same as being stuck. That coming back slower doesn’t mean you’re not coming back.

I’m still tired. I’ll be honest about that. But underneath the tiredness, there’s something else that makes me happy, which is that Out of Sync is out in the world. It’s sitting on shelves, in people’s hands, and in the national library, of all places. I did that.

The creative energy will return. It always does. And when it does, I’ll be ready, and this time, I’ll know to build in the space to land.

Nobody told me it would feel like this after. But now I’m telling you, so you don’t have to find out the hard way alone.

And while I wait for my creative energy to return, please subscribe to my YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/@lolaovayoza
I made a vlog about the event, and I can't wait for you to see it.

Also, pleaseeee get your copies (physical) on BookPeddler BuyBookInPortHarcourt Selar
Get your copies (digital) Sona Pabpub Kindle Kobo Selar
Obiliwiski is still available here
Death and I is also still selling here

I look forward to reading your reviews on GoodReads & StoryGraph