This month my book Mother Maiden Mistress completes two years. I got a copy out and touched the cover lovingly. I double-check, yes it’s real. The book is still one of the nicest living dream, I have.
Every time someone asks me about the book, I tell them the nicest things; when interested people ask me about what’s in the book, I tell them step wise about the structure of the book. I tell them everything yet nothing.
What I actually want to tell him or her is about the day I thought it is not going to happen, about the journey which began with no publisher in sight and about the times I doubted myself. But who wants to listen to that? Probably the people who want to get their book published?
Yeah, I have become that idea that comes to my friends friend’s mind, my relative’s relative mind (pun…
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