• V.Castro

The light at the end of one tunnel

Updated: Sep 5, 2018

Up to my scheduled c-section I was revising, sending out queries and manuscript requests. And then there's the #waiting. Waiting to have my child or hear back from the universe. Which would come first.

It hurt to walk as my baby lodged herself deep into my pelvis. Every step felt like my bones would snap in two like stale bread. So I would sit and watch the weather change or cry thinking what a poor example I was to my daughter. I'm no high achiever, big earner or overly active in my kids school scene. Sure, I go OTT for their parties, bake and cook for them, I decorate my home like the holidays have been sick every Halloween and Christmas, attend every concert or assembly, tell them I love them everyday with hugs and kisses, but would that be enough? I'm not the person I was at 20 (thank God for that) or 30. Who am I now.

This is when I began seriously thinking about author's platform. A bit of online work would be easier than writing with an infant. Yea, I read about author's platform, but it was boring. For me, it was all about the story, the character. Surely the story is enough. Nope. Wrong again. At least now I had a product in my hands and more in my head. I had something I could promote because I'm really boring with zero writing credentials.

Now, I always liked #facebook because it kept me in touch with my family and old school friends that live abroad. You see, my husband and I are alone in London. I had #Instagram because my younger sisters were on it and only used #twitter for agent/editor pitch parties- which are great when you get likes. I highly recommend these for any would be authors. Surprisingly, I didn't do too bad with these which gave me hope my idea did have merit. But with anything in life it all comes down to the execution in the end.

I decided no more querying. Soon I would give birth to my first daughter, third and final child. I would self-publish. Since I'd be at home for the years to come I'd have the time to dedicate to making it happen, fail or succeed. My husband was on board, but at this point it still seemed like a hobby. I think he would have done anything to lift my mood.

And then she was here. My darling baby girl. She is perfect and beautiful in every way. She's a sweet pinch of cinnamon, unlike her paler (but equally as cute) brothers.

As if by some miracle, all those dark thoughts left my world as she entered. Pregnancy was over, birthing children was over. I could try to start over too. It wouldn't be easy, but I would try.

Hampton Court Palace

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