The path of the writer is wrought with perils and dangerous decisions, mine is no different. When I set about the task of writing and finishing a book I never dreamed where it would take me. I have the limits if my sanity stretched, my patience and my humanity tested at every turn.
Watching my family and friends support me is the greatest gift I have recieved on this path. Knowing that next year will be “the year” has my stomach turning and butterflies dancing.
The first time I called myself a writer and had others do the same was surreal. Knowing that things are closer to completion is one of my proudest moments.
I have lost people along the way, by their own choice. I know that they will be proud of me, someday, though they will never say it to my face. I am suddenly thrust into the unknown, not knowing how much farther I have to go. I am glad I have shared this journey, and will continue to share it forever, on the page.