My horrible book

Tremendous value in getting “pissed off” like that.  (See the post by that name).  First, the X-ville reconciliation I described in my last post, and now i have come to terms with my son and my horrible book.   Which brings me to the end of figuring my suicide attempt.  I self-published a book made up from a strange conglomate of past blog-posting and poetry, short stories, and failed novels from all different periods in my life.  I thought the blog posting would rsomehow carry it but NOOOO.  God kept me from it until now, when i need to face it for my son’s sake, he expected something.  I couldn’t even reread the big posts, I just took it on faith that it somehow flowed.  I was doing it stay ALIVE!  My mind was dying in that claustrophobic, muggy apartment over a retention pond bebind a mall.  And then when the book was out, i was ecstatic!  But there was nothing left: NO more phone calls or emails; and no sales.

So this place is truly therapeutic, there was a question about whether I should keep blogging that depended on coming to terms with the book and my son and I have done this and the Lord through my sons fragile voice, said stay home today, which I have done.  So I have today to think about it.

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