I suck at life. But that’s okay I’m NOT suicidal, so no need to panic. I have everything under control. 🙂
I’ve come to learn in my 31 years on this planet, there are two types of people. The first are more like cats than people in that no matter what, they always land on their feet. They could be headed straight toward a disaster of colossal proportions, often times of their own creation, and just when everything is about to combust in their face, BAM!! they manage to escape unscathed. These people make me want to wretch. While the first group of people have this ability that everything they touch turns to pure gold. The second group, which is where I belong, everything they touch (or even merely think about) turns to crap. That’s me! Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!
I guess that isn’t completely true. I have had one teeny, tiny success. And no, I’m not talking about my kids. Those are two HUGE successes, but I can’t count them toward my successes. I just conceived, carried, birthed, rocked, fed, played with, taught and loved them. There successes aren’t really mine to claim. That should be true of all parents, please, for the love and mental wellbeing of your children, STOP trying to live vicariously through them!!! You have your life, live it and let them live theirs.
I do have one success under my belt. Believe it or not by my crazy nonsense above, at one time I was a very common name in the Amazon bestselling romance books charts. I’ve hit national lists on more than one occasion and I’ve even swept up a few awards. But then my marriage crumbled to dust and once again, everything I touched turned to crap. 😀
So here I am, creating a new identity for myself. Except, I don’t want to write romance anymore. Gag. I want to write about the nitty-gritty day-to-day life stuff where I don’t have to please people with what I write or I won’t sell as many books. Nope. I’m done with that crap. I’m done crying over bad reviews or tanking sales. I’m done smiling politely when a reader walks up to me at a convention and insults my book…or my common sense for having a heroine dare to say anything unkind to the perfect hero. For the love of hair people, IT’S A BOOK.
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