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Or “The Great Autobiographical Metaphor, now in print!”

So, how does a new author celebrate finally publishing her very first book ever? 

She writes more. 

(Should I have given you a spoiler alert?) 

I mean, there may have been some sushi in my life tonight, but the best celebration I could think of is my favorite keyboard activity. Freewriting! I actually enjoy this aspect of the process more than any other. The creation of test balloons and random scenes to get a feel for my new characters is why I edit—so i can keep writing the fun stuff. I even have my favorite caffinated water (thanks Mio) at my side here and my Kinesis the Weird (yet comfortable) keyboard.


As for the other books…

Rescued (2) is simmering in Beta–but the review I just got back has me pretty excited to take it into final edits and revisions. There’s Recovery (3) on my desk so i can finish version 2 (Yep, rewriting that little bastard). 

There are a few awesome characters I can’t wait to get to know and some challenges I want to inflict upon them…

MUAHAHAHAH…

(Oh. Sorry. No characters were harmed in the writer’s process. Okay… maybe that one guy, but no one liked him anyway.)

Rayne is my very favorite newcomer. You’re going to love her. Unfortunately, you’re going to need to read book 3 to find out her story. 


It actually feels kind of weird.

I’m a little surprised that I’m without any anxiety after putting myself out there. I’m hoping we get lucky and people like the books. I love them—and i’m saying that becuase pride isn’t unhealthy. Arrogance is. I am willing to learn, grow, and improve but not at the cost of my self-respect.

Pride is my inner critic is telling me things are going to be fine.


Pride is taking my demons and turning them into villains I can defeat.


Pride is how I am becoming all the things I grew up wishing I were brave enough to pull off. 

Becoming isn’t really about me… okay. Maybe a little.

Anna Carter becomes more in her story—more than she thought she could ever become. A door opens up for her and she gets pulled into a whole new world right there on the very streets she’d lived on. Everything changes. There are some hiccups taking those changes in stride, but ultimately the darkness life hands her becomes the gift she needed. 

You can’t rewrite the past, but sometimes you need to take a hike to the very end of the road not traveled and see how many monsters you can kill off. 

Becoming is not exactly an autobiography…

It’s a very detailed metaphor (with made up sex scenes)

When I was a kid, I wish I knew the would wouldn’t start working for me until I started loving myself. After a few ugly, unhealthy relationships, chronic illness became my antagonist. It knocked me out and dragged me away. It rocked my ability to accept myself. It cost me relationships–no hero showed up in the knick of time to whisk me away from this villain.

No one on the outside can save you from a beast on the inside–that one is all you.

The PTSD that followed was a world I never knew existed. Then I found myself living there—no one would even believe me about the monsters. The only way out from this enemy’s layer was to become something of a self-rescuing princess. The friend who saved me from it did so only by assuring me I could (really) save myself.

Ultimately, everyone finds folks who believe in them. The others call you weak for being broken, for being unlike them, or hard to understand. I have my villiage–guardians to fight at my back. Screw the haters. Life requires you take disaster in stride—I learned to rise by sharpening my teeth on personal catastrophes and near death experiences. 

You’ve seen my favorite quote before, but I’m saying it again.

You don’t have a right to the cards you believe you should have been dealt. What you have is an obligation to play the HELL out of the ones you’re holding.

Cheryl Strayed

This game is won by hustle and mindset.

Becoming is based on a woman’s journey from rejection to acceptance. Then the hard trip from darkness to growth. The path requires absolute faith in a good outcome, even though I don’t know how this particular adventure will go. 

As for my metaphorical monsters?

Let me lace up my boots…

Love and Gratitude Always,