This might get a little cheesy so beware.
One year ago I finished my first novel, Equinox. I am immensely proud of it. I feel joy that has overwhelmed me and pushed me up as well as down.
I started writing it simply because I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. I have found it to be a passion that I’ve never felt for anyTHING in my life. An avid reader turned writer.
The easiest part of the process has actually been sitting down and writing it. I loved every single moment of it. Now, the process of getting the book out there has been tiresome – of course, thrilling and satisfying also. Trying to promote myself and the novel has tightly squeezed my throat with my feet dangling in the air – being happy that I am following my dreams, and feeling terribly afraid of falling on my ass.
The entire process has given me the highest of highs and lowest of lows. I feel the goal lingering on the other side of the glass and me smashing against it, waiting for it to break. But the only thing/one breaking has been me. Have you ever wanted something or someone so much you felt like you were suffocating slowly and yet you couldn’t stop? That’s it.
What has been an enormous joy, is hearing from my readers – some from my home country and some from around the world. Getting their positive feedback, feeling the enthusiasm about the novel and seeing the pictures has been beyond encouraging.