Therapy Heartbreak

Hello again. Hard to believe it's that time of year again. It was a long year as it continued to be since the beginning of this horrid pandemic in 2020. My life has changed so much since then. There's been much loss. The threat of depression has begun to smother me again, but I fight it every day. I resist as I don't want to end up hospitalized again. The thought of that is more frightening since the sudden death of my late therapist Mike Rein. Mike was the therapist who had me hospitalized to begin with. The thought of that is more frightening since the sudden death of my late therapist Mike Rein. Mike was the therapist who originally hospitalized me. I had an ally with him and, to a certain extent, a friend. He was someone who cared, and while many still can, it's a frightening prospect to face any hospital stay without him. As a result, I stopped therapy for the time being, but I'll have to come back to that in a future blog. I continue to miss my dad, and my nephew was killed after being hit by a car. This year a close friend took his life. Its been a struggle to make sense of these things as there is no sense in anything. That's how it feels for the most part. I took a break from writing but found myself writing anyway. But if writing has been a struggle promoting myself and my books has been even more difficult. Sometimes it feels almost impossible with everything going on these days. Like who has time to read? Who even wants to? And yet, many need their reading. It's their escape. Reading a good fiction novel could be better than watching the gory news every night. Call it a reprieve, even a small one. Whatever works. As an author, it's worth a try—every time. As we find ourselves at the end of this year (already), I realized that I missed an important anniversary. In 2011 I wrote, and self-published my first novel Love Child. Back in April of 2011. This past April, Love Child turned ten. I realized this recently, months past April. I can't chastise myself too much for missing it, for, like I previously mentioned, 2021 was a rough year, as were the few before it. However, I can't overlook what this anniversary means after my years of struggle as a writer. Love Child took me many years to complete. Seven years or so, but I began it long before then. Since its release, I've learned a lot. I made many mistakes along the way. I had my first copy published through a Vanity Publication Outskirts Press, where I paid a lot of money for publication. For example, they charged for every little thing and didn't advise me well on my book price. So, of course, I ended up overpricing it as I didn't know any better. And that's a problem many first-time authors face. But I don't want to dwell on these things, for the thrill of publishing your novel is a thrill I'll never forget. I wasn't sure I'd ever get it finished, much less published. More thrilling were the wonderful readers who read not only Love Child but also its following sequels. I must say it has been a surreal ten years despite its many setbacks. Publishing Love Child was a dream come true, and I continue to work on building its readership.

Love Child original first cover.