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Thursday 11 July 2019

Children growing up

I had the worst nightmare I've ever had in my life last night. Only another parent would understand how this tore me apart and forced me to sit up for the rest of the night unable to go back to sleep.
My daughter is turning 18 this year and my 24 year old son is moving out in a matter of months. As a result, I had this dream where my daughter was four years old and ran across the road after I told her not to and got hit and dragged by a bus.
Now it doesn't sound all that horrible, children have survived being hit by cars and buses before but the sound she made when she was being dragged literally ripped me apart in my dream and I forced myself to wake up (which I can do from nightmares although it physically hurts to do so).
This dream has echoed with me all day to the point where people have been asking me whats wrong. I'd planned to start writing the second book today...no such luck.
I could analyse the dream, I know exactly what it's about. Fear for my children making their own decisions without me, making mistakes, losing them, etc....
But for me it's the sound she made as the bus was dragging her that I can't get out of my head.
I can honestly say that they would have to lock me in an institution if anything happened to one of my children; I would not be able to cope with it.
Does that make me weak? I don't know. All I know is the depth of my love for them is endless so much so that the rest of the world can go to hell for all I care as long as my children are ok. Yes, other people don't matter to me compared to my kids. Is that how it is for all parents or am I strange?

As for the second book, I'm still having trouble. I've gotten a few 5 star reviews for "Proxy" which is thrilling and validating but I still have the 'why should I bother's going on a bit in my head. I never expected to be a best selling author making millions straight up but I expected for it to be liked and bought more than it is because it's interesting and well written. But it just seems I'm lost in a sea of indie authors all plugging their lame ass work and mine is being judged the same as theirs.
Oh if only an agent or publisher had done more than seen the topic scifi and taken a chance on it. Then I wouldn't have to be trying to market it myself and be making a right hash of it. I'm no promoter or publisher; I'm a writer. I write. That's it. If only I had the money to pay for real promotion. The person who is doing it right now is ok but I actually haven't made any sales sooooo...
Baring my soul, here, even though I don't believe in souls.
Do you read this and think I'm scum for not being able to sell my book? Do you automatically think it must be rubbish? grrr, if only I could make people see that it's not. The first chapter is up for free as the first post on this block. Scroll down and read it. Prove to yourself that what I write is rubbish rather than just assume.
Ah, but that doesn't work either because who's even reading this dribble other than me?
You watch, i'll become famous once I die then you can all read back on this pathetic little blog and think you know me.
These are just the depressed ramblings of an unappreciated author dying to be noticed for how good she is. 

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