I've been making up stories ever since I was a child--even before I could make those pesky letters form proper words. The moment I could write, there was no holding me back. I was a closet scribbler for decades. Yes. I am THAT old. :)
But in all that time, very few people got to see my stories—only a couple of my besties, and they didn't get to see everything. Some stuff was just too personal (and awful!). A gynae exam would've been less uncomfortable than exposing my 'darlings' to the world.
But here I am. Published. I might have decimated several forests to get here, but I finally did it...the thing I never even dreamed I could do.
It's been a crazy-mad year, so far. The hours simply whizz by, and suddenly there are never enough of them. But sometimes I find the time to stop, to take a breath, and look around. Wow! What an epic journey.
It's a weird feeling, knowing that complete strangers are reading my scribblings, and that they parted with their hard-earned cash in order to do so.
It's a humbling experience.
Thank you for giving me this chance. Whatever happens from now on, I'll do my damndest not to let you down.
❤
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