Aw shucks, I tell myself.
I tell myself that today.
But Saturday, 3 days ago, I was almost prostrate with grief.
I was never going to write again.
I was a terrible writer who would never make it.
I called my family.
It is very hard to admit to people that you failed.
Disappointments are hard to take.
Disappointing others is harder.
But I've just got to get up, dust myself off, and carry on.
And eat. I keep my head in the trough.
My husband consoled me with flowers.
Aren't they beautiful?
And pound cake.
My favorite.
He's simply mahvalous!
2 comments:
aw shucks, don't worry about it, angel. we'll get 'em next time. i kno you'll get a book published in my lifetime, and then many more. your folks are proud of you, for trying this endeavor. congrats on your book, anyway. keep blogging, keep practicing, i kno it'll all turn out good.
I'm proud of you too...always have been, published or prostrate with grief...:)
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