This is more of a dear diary post than anything. When it comes to building a world that is only alive in my head, I’m great. However, I can’t voice it when it comes to my personal life, so my only choice is to write about it. I bottle things a lot because I have a fear that sharing my thoughts and emotions would bother the people around me. So, be warned if you don’t want to read about the struggles of an author, blogger or a simple human, skip this one.
Living the world, I’m writing about has always been escapism for me, and at times, the two mix so much that I don’t know which is which. In reality, I think writing Turning Paige is what helped me with the pandemic and getting fired.
When I told people the idea, everyone would help me; sadly, when I finished it. Doors were closed and starting to be invisible, which made me self-doubt even more. Months have passed, and it still lives somewhere on my laptop. In all honesty, I don’t know if it will ever see the light of day. Last week, my mum asked if my book ever sold more copies.
Well, first of all, whenever anyone is willing to read my book, I always give them a copy free of charge. Secondly, I don’t know if I still remember how to access the site to see. Plus, the platform I used, CreateSpace, is powered by Amazon as a self-publishing way, and they won’t give me a cent until I hit 100 euros. As much as this might be discouraging, I have an idea for a new novel in verse that I can’t seem to let go of. So yea, I’m hoping to start writing again soon. It feels more like a need than a want in my current life