Maybe it’ll flop.
But maybe it won’t.
I started self-publishing fiction on Kindle, under the pseudonym of Maggie Waters. This was a very scary thing for me to do, even though I’m using a pseudonym to do it. I’ve written fiction before, but it’s never actually been “out there” for people to read — never been published.
All I can see is, it sure is fun to write. And getting some positive reviews is helping my self-esteem, too.
What’s challenging for me right now — “challenging” is an understatement — is wondering how my life might have been different if all of this abuse and trauma never happened to me.
Might I have become a fiction writer in my 20s?
Might I have published several books by now?
Might I have felt some fulfillment in life — a feeling I have yet to experience?
So while the past 10 days have been fun and exciting, trying something new and potentially life-altering in a positive sense, they’ve also brought up a lot of grief again. I’ve had to face the reality of my life, which is that most of it has been consumed by the devastation of trauma. It’s hard not to get depressed, realizing that I may have very little time left to feel like I’m actually living my life.