Last year, I published my first book of poetry.
I worked on it during the most trying time of my life, but it was worth stressing over. That was right after I had a major surgery which I candidly wrote about here.
It wasn’t the stress that a boss placed on me or a tight deadline for a job. It was one that I, to my surprise, enjoyed being in because it was for a book. Despite the sleepless nights and weariness, I knew I was doing the right thing.
I have a profound admiration and respect for books. It could be why I have always wanted to make one.