I am still working on my book. There are days that I wonder if my book is a chore or a just hobby and why am I even bothering with it, it’s probably not even any good. It’s hard because it is personal, it’s revealing and when I write, I feel as if the words, emotions and feelings are coming from deep within and they are seeing the harsh light of day. There are times that I find it a little disconcerting, you would think that I am working on the next great novel and that is so not the case. I am just writing about a relative’s life from another time in the past, a relative that I never knew, doing things that had become something like a legend in the family and I am making a lot of the details up, while writing about the time period as faithfully as I can through research and reading about it.
There are days where I indulge in fantasy and I wonder what it would be like to be published by a publishing house like Random House or Alfred Knopf publishers, those days are rare but it is fun when I go down that path. I think about doing the talk show circuit and being a guest on Good Morning America, Live with Kelly. I have even decided the shows that I would refuse, definitely the Fox news shows and I don’t think that I could go on the View because I would probably be rude to Elizabeth Hasselbeck aka Rudolph. I really don’t care for her. Nice little fantasy that I have created for myself, n’est-ce pas?