Internal thoughts…and my writing.

I wonder sometimes if creating a book is worth it. I loved writing it. I loved how my mind wandered into a world unknown. I loved knowing that no matter what I would be proud of my work. Since Surviving is my first book I knew it wouldn’t be perfect. I tried and that is all I will ever be able to do. Let me tell you something: I AM NOT CONFIDENT. I have never been confident at anything except singing (because I will admit, I am good at that, but how am I supposed to make a career of that?!). I played the flute in college and my downfall was the fact that I was not confident enough. I struggled because I was so afraid of what everyone would think of my playing. The reason I kept playing was the fact that I loved music so much. And the fact that I love to be on stage.

Writing is another outlet for me and I will continue to do it. I will continue to learn. I will get better. I know these things, but when I see one (or now two) of the very few books I’m selling returned…I feel helpless inside. I am a very emotional person. I always have been and putting my work out there for the world to see was a risk for my fragile heart. I read all these things talking about these books that are out there overflowing the market that are basically poop, only bringing down other’s hard work. And I wonder to myself, is my book one of those? Did I put myself out there only to help with overflow that is a load of crap? Because, come one, there are “books” out there that should not be out there. I’m not talking about erotica or any genre. I am talking about the writings that are halfway put together. The writings that have mistake after mistake after mistake.Sure, Surviving has plenty of mistakes, but I’m not talking about the mistakes that can easily be missed by an author who wants to put his or her work out there but barely has a dime much less money to hire someone to edit it (like myself). 

What about all this marketing bull-hockey? I don’t even want to go there. I’ve spent way more on my book than I have earned. I wonder if I’ll ever actually make a profit. 

Oh, hang on a moment. I think I went on a rant…


I am a person. I am not perfect, no matter how I wish I could be. I have to remind myself of this often. As I was saying earlier, I am an emotional person so when I see those books returned, I feel so terrible. But when someone actually likes my story and understands it…wow. My heart feels like a new spring flower opening, blooming, taking in the bright sunlight. But no matter what I tell myself: “you are writing for yourself”, “it doesn’t matter what other people think”, or “as long as I’m doing something I love”, it still hurts my heart that I’m not a better writer or that I didn’t make my story as “great” as it could have been. 

No matter what, I will keep on keeping on and learn from my mistakes and successes.