Dear Reader,

You want to know a very surreal feeling? Reading a review about a book you wrote to your daughter about your dead wife.

For indie authors to get an editorial review you have to pay for it. You submit your book to a couple of sites. Wait three months, and hope for a good review. You are not guaranteed a good review. The sites don’t publish any statistics, but plenty of books bomb.

So when the first one came back it felt so strange. Seeing my words coming from someone else’s mouth. I immediately wanted to vomit.

Look, I’m glad I got good reviews. Very happy. It would be dumb to put all this work into a book and secretly want it to suck. As much as I hate myself I’m not THAT stupid.

It just goes back to what I wrote in the book. This book wouldn’t exist if Vanessa was alive. And she is not. The book is only here because she is dead.

So yay for the good review. Boo for the dead wife.

… and mommy.

No, I’m not forgetting Luciana. Sheesh.

Besitos,

Michael

P.S.

Funny side note. WordPress does prompts for people who write blogs. Today’s prompt was “What book could you read over and over again?”

No, I would not pick my own book. Y’all are so self-absorbed.