It’s done.
87,500 words. And its finished. I don’t even want to look at it again, because i know the moment I do I will find something else to tinker with, and it’s unnecessary.
I could keep going, I know that. I could go through it again, change a few things here and there. Add something. Take something away. And theoretically I could do that for the rest of my life. But eventually you reach the point where the alterations being made are not worth the effort it takes to make them. And I think I have got to that place.
The only reason to keep editing ad infinitum, is fear. Scared of success or failure – maybe both. Once the story is done, it’s done. Let it go and move on, because otherwise the words will remain forever on your laptop or desktop or whatever else you may be using to write that masterpiece of yours.
Now I need to get it off my computer and into the hands of a publisher… and that’s when the hard work really begins.







The problem (if there is a problem) is… distance.
So my first kiss in the year 2018 was shared with a guy, which is totally fine – we should all strive to experience new things, while we are still young enough to enjoy them – and although it is true that he was a better kisser than most of the girls I have had the pleasure of interacting with since my lips began actively seeking out others, this is not really what I meant when I internally concluded that this year I wanted to expand my horizons.