I received my first response back from a publisher, and I was turned down. For the first few days after I received what I sent them back in the mail, I’ve felt like damn, this is another thing that I’ve failed at. I begin hearing this voice inside telling me I’m not a writer and probably never will be, but then I remember something my English teacher in high school had said to me: ‘If you hear a voice within you saying, "You are not a writer", then by all means write...and that voice will silenced.’ So I guess that’s where I’m at now, I’m not a good writer, but I want that voice inside of me to be silent.
I was told I had a good story; it just wasn’t ready for publication yet. Hell, I don’t know anything about how to edit or put a book together acceptable enough to be published. I’ve thought about going back to school and learn journalism or something equivalent, so at least I could finish my story, but at my age I’m not sure that’s an option. So for now I just put aside what I’ve wrote, and who knows maybe one day I’ll figure out how to put my story together enough for everyone to understand.
When I write I want others to feel my pain, to flinch their eyes and look away in sadness. I want others to understand what pedophiles and child molesters can do to children. It destroys their lives. We no longer feel normal. We go through life feeling as if something is missing or out of place. And no matter how hard we try, we never feel okay. There is one thing I have learned: Everything is always okay in the end, if it's not, then it's not the end.