FLEMA β The Publishing House I Created at 7 (Chapter 1: Authorβs Heart)
Before I take you into the next wave of thunder, let me take you back to where this writerβs voice first whispered, long before I knew what it meant to be an author.
This is Chapter One of AUTHORβs HEART, a tender series where I return to the moments that shaped my writing voice and creative spirit.
I didnβt know what a publishing house was at seven.
I just knew that I loved the way stories made me feel, how they gave me space to be more than what life around me understood.
So I wrote.
Three little books, created with all the seriousness of a child who didnβt know she was being genius.
ποΈ I named my publishing company FLEMA BOOKS.
No meaning, no Google search, no strategy.
The name just came to me like it already existed in another dimension and was simply waiting for me to remember.
Back then, my parents and siblings would call me βFlema Booksβ whenever they saw me scribbling on folded paper, carefully tucked into a big brown envelope with FLEMA BOOKS boldly written across it.
Iβd walk around the house pretending to launch my latest release.
It was playful to them. But to me, it was real. It felt sacred.
I didnβt think I needed anyoneβs permission to create worlds. I didnβt care that the stories were unpublished.
They existed. I existed. And that was enough.
β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£β£
This isnβt just about me. You too may have had a moment like this.
π« A name you gave yourself, a dream that came without a blueprint, an inner voice that whispered before the world got too loud.
Maybe you forgot.
Maybe life got busy.
Maybe you grew up and left that version of you behind.
π But what if that part of you is still there. Soft, fearless, and waiting for you to remember?
20 years later, I look back at that little girl and smile.
She knew who she was long before the world had the words. She wasnβt waiting for validation. She was already in motion.
FLEMA means something now. To me, it means ethereal.
A word Iβve come to love. Soft but powerful. Mysterious but unmistakable.
Just like the child I was and the woman Iβm becoming.
Sometimes I wonder if the fire in me today, the one thatβs fueling My Inner Phoenix, the one sketching journals, designing and sparking ideas I canβt keep up with, was lit by that first bold act of self-belief.
No one told me to start a publishing company but I did and maybe thatβs the heart of it all:
π« We are born with a knowing.
π« We are born with names we havenβt even defined yet.
π« We are born ready to create.
I shared my βFlemaβ. What was yours?
That soft, fearless version of you, do you still feel them sometimes?
This is just one story from my Authorβs Heart. Itβs the one that reminds me and maybe you too:
Youβve always been this person and that spark is still with you.
With love,
Becky
If this stirred something in youβ¦. stay close.
This reminds me of myself. I sometimes catch my thoughts drifting into memories of when I would write short stories as a kid. Very endearing<3.
That's a wonderful story. Sometimes it takes time for ideas and dreams to gel. Keep us posted! I wrote about mine here: https://judetheinfopreneur.substack.com/p/learning-to-fly-again - I'd like to think we are all explorers!