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Reflections…

It’s been quite a week.

Good things, bad things, and things that are inevitable and a part of life…

This week, I finished my first book.

I’m editing my own work, as opposed to other people’s work and it’s quite a challenge.

The words I’m reading came from MY brain and as thorough as I am when editing for other people, I am seriously critical of my own work. I have been editing for 3 days now and I am still only halfway through Chapter 4.

At this pace… I might be ready to pass it off to my Beta Readers, oh sometime in December!

To give myself some credit though, I have had other things going on. Raising 2 young children, keeping a house, playing on Facebook, and some personal events have taken a lot of my focus the past few days.

I am thrilled to have my first book out of my head, but at the same time, terrified of passing it off to others to read and criticize.

Anyone who tells you that they don’t care what others say about them is lying.

When you write, you are taking your thoughts, your characters, and blending them with things you know. No story is ever purely fiction. Characters are based off of people you know or have known in your life. Situations are usually somewhat personal in some form or another.

That’s not to say that I’m writing a fiction book, so by my own words, it must be about me.

It’s not.

I’m not nor have I ever been involved with a Rock Star.

What I’m saying is that your writing is a part of you. It’s personal.

It’s something you take the time to get out of your head, to share with others, and you hope that it’s received well.

There is a very real chance it might not be.

Someone might tell you in a review that you suck. Or take to bashing you on social media.

If this happens, it will hurt. No matter how thick your skin is, or how much you “think” you won’t care.

You will.

It’s human nature.

We all want to be accepted and loved. It’s in our genetics.

I don’t know why this is on my mind, right now, but it is.

This morning, I went to a funeral.

A family member passed away. He wasn’t a young man, and he lived a good life, but he was someone that people loved and though he had indeed lived a good life, his passing is still hard. Those he leaves behind are grieving.

Seeing people close to you, people who you  love with your whole heart, in pain, in tears… it’s not an easy thing.

Maybe that’s why I’m feeling like this right now.

I don’t know.

What I do know is this… life is not promised. No one knows when they’ll be taken off the earth.

So, I am going to open myself up, take chances, and put myself and my books out there.

If I bomb, I bomb. But if I make it… if just a handful of people like my work and find enjoyment in something I choose to share with the world… that’s something.

And I’ll take it.

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