I have OCD and depression. It’s summer, so they’re fairly under control and I’m doing well. But in winter it’s pretty bad, and until recently I wasn’t all that well no matter the time of year. I’m past the worst of it, but before that and after it I still worried about if I was any good as a writer. Regular old self-doubt and low self-esteem. I didn’t know if there was a point to my writing. I didn’t think myself that good at it, or thought that anyone would like it if I did manage to finish anything. Larkspur took me two years to write. It’s a 15K novelette… and for a year and a half all I had was 5K. The ballroom scene, and the latter bedroom one. I added, took away, rewrote.. I wanted it perfect. Eventually I gave myself a hard deadline and forced myself to finish. It took another month after publication to catch all the small errors, and make the cover nice and professional, but I finally did it.

And people like it.

I got my 15th review on tonight. Another 5 star. Another stranger who likes my work. That’s not even taking into account goodreads, and the other country amazons.

Most of these are strangers. At the very closest random internet friends. No family, or real-life buddies..  random people think my work has worth. They want to read the next story. I have 21 people at the Delphinium Release party.

I can’t believe how lucky I am that this is falling into place. My silly childhood dream is coming true.

Writing and working on Delphinium right now, I have time and music and tea. And I’m smiling and happy because I know I’m alright. I don’t have to doubt and fret. It’s a really nice feeling.