I knew that writing is hard, but I wrote. I also knew that criticism would come, but I wrote. When my courage was sufficient, I shared my book. And then I died.

The first blow came from the silence. So, does that mean you hate it? Then could you let me know that? That way I will know that you hate my book, not me.

But the second strike seemed backhanded. A romance reader (poor thing) said my book is emotive which makes it hard to read. Romance novels aren’t emotion driven? Well, that explains a lot.

Next came a mortal blow: Where is God in this book? Asking God for help, God’s encouragement – Those don’t count?

Death came slowly. He lingered long. But praise God! He didn’t stay.