I have a series of which I have written six books. Because my timing is absolutely wretched, they will most likely never be published unless I do it myself. I might, one day, but right now, I don't have the time to do all that I would need to do to make such a thing worth while much less successful.
After receiving a rejection but with excellent feedback, I decided to attempt another rewrite. I've spent the last two weeks editing books 1 and 2. As with every time I open the files and dive back in, the story pulls me. My heart and soul went into these characters and their lives, and it is sometimes painful to me that I am the only one who has met them, who knows their struggles, their shortcomings, their saving graces. The main character reflects quite a bit of me, and many times I have written her experiences and thoughts with tears burning my eyes and throat.
I'll have to think about it more, but I may post chapters or scenes here. Camellia's story is dark, and most people don't do dark.
For tonight, I will just share one of her thoughts:
Loneliness was a catching illness. I am
an adult. I am strong, physically
and mentally. The loneliness shouldn't get to me, but somehow, it always
does.