Love it when a blog friend (this one is an absolute gem) publishes their book.
It’s like, a bit of you win when they win. As we are on this journey together. ❤️
I published a book. I’m immortal now, like Ozymandias. [i] I’ll exist long after the last tree has fallen and the last river has turned to dust.

Or not. I have seller’s remorse. The temptation to log onto my account and undo what’s been done is enormous: that this mirrors bulimia, the theme of the book, is one of those amusing coincidences life throws at you, but not, I suspect, ironic.
It’s not that I’m not excited. I’m thrilled there’s a book with my name on it. I’m amazed I got it done. It was more work than I anticipated, and I’m less perfect than I thought. The editing and formatting were work. I made it, however, and under my self-imposed deadline. Unfortunately, since publishing, the “not worthy” gremlins have been busy.
My inside voice is convinced this isn’t a “real” book. It’s a compilation, so it doesn’t count…
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