Story Time

I have sat here pondering the idea of writing a new novel or maybe even making a new workbook. I just can’t seem to find my muse. My first novel Sweetp’s Big Dream never made the best seller list it never even made it into a book store. I was sorely disappointed that I couldn’t even get my oldest daughter or husband to pick up a copy. When I first started writing the book I had no intentions of sharing it with the world but my husband convinced me to give it a try. So I self-published and that was the end of it. I believe I sold maybe twenty copies of the book and that was to people my mom worked with. Talk about a slap in the face. I finally share something with the world and the world doesn’t even see it.

So during the time of my first book and my workbook I took some time off from writing. I raised two daughters who were young teenagers at the time of my book and lived life. I can’t say that my life was truly fulfilled. I have never really felt I had a place, never really had a job, never really got to express who I really am. So fulfilled would not describe my life.

When I finally decided to put my fingers to work on my workbook I got rather excited I was using a range of my skills, I was able to draw coloring pages and write my feelings onto the computer screen. I was really making a go of it this time. I wanted to help people and I really wanted to be someone. So when I finished my workbook I sought after a publisher instead of going the self-publishing route. Actaully got accepted to three publishing companies, exciting right? No not really because each of them wanted money up front to publish my book and it was no small amount of change. My dreams were quickly dashed. So instead I self-published and made a go at advertising and getting my workbook out there. To put it rather bluntly I failed miserably, In fact I am setting on about twenty five copies in my closet with nothing to do with them. I haven’t even been able to get my money back out of them.

Since the fail of my workbook and I have painted wooden signs with cute little sayings on them and made a few bucks but again nothing to write home to your parents about. It just seems to me I am destined to be that person who never truly finds there place in life. I really wanted to leave my mark on the world but I fall short in the talent department.

For some reason though I just don’t ever give up, I just keep on plugging through life. I hear my dad saying what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger. Well as many times as I have been knocked down and all the tough times I have gone through you would think I was the strongest person in the world. I really am not strong at all, my heart aches, and mind wonders what I could have done wrong.

Yet here I am again behind the keyboard of my computer typing out words thinking to myself what I can get my hands into next. I can feel a story, in fact I can hear the words deep in my mind trying to get out. But…..I am wondering what good will it do to let those words spill out into the written word. There will never be anyone to appreciate them. I am far from Stephen King quality even my husband told me that once. Not in so many words, but I got the point.

I listen to a local radio station almost every morning and there is a gentleman on there who calls himself Bobby Bones. He has published two books and has really made a name for himself. He came from a terrible background and I think all the time how nice it is to see someone pull themselves up from the bottom. I just can’t understand why I can’t take risks and pull myself up from the bottom. Just isn’t meant to be.

So …..My stories will probably go forever untold and I will never leave a mark on this world. As Iset here and write this I wonder who even reads this blog anyways. I am simply talking to myself out loud. So until next time I end this blog with my farewell.