Friday, July 20, 2012


It is raining here and I am sitting next to the fire, eating a home made cinnamon bun, which I must say, tastes better than any store bought one I have ever had. As I am enjoying the heat of the fire and the sweetness of the cinnamon bun, I am left thinking of what it is that I truly want to accomplish with my writing. Why is it that I completely stress myself out about not being able to publish my book?

I am just wondering if one day that I do get my book published, if I would finally be happy and the truth is, I don't know. In truth I never knew I could be good enough to have my work published until my sister told me to try. The idea that my work could be read and loved by others is just too much to pass up, honestly.

For now, I am just happy sitting by the fire and eating the rest of my cinnamon bun. I will let tomorrow worry about itself. All I can do is keep querying and hope someone thinks I am talented enough to help me achieve my dream of being published.

Not quite myself

I have no idea why, but I have not been feeling like myself. Even being in my own skin feels alien.  The good news is that I still managed t...