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Complete 

I felt empty , all the pages were full but I felt as if I wasn’t done . I kept pacing back and forth with my work of 7 years in my hand . It felt so light , seven years of work over just like that . My brain was empty I didn’t know what to do I felt unsatisfied . I began to let  my thoughts of doubt consume my mind and started to tear it apart with opinions I didn’t have before . After hours and hours of taking in word for word nothing seemed wrong to me with my book . I figured it was just my mind playing games with me and decided to go to bed . 

I woke up in peace despite the fact that it was pouring outside of my apartment . I got up from my bed to make myself a cup of tea , I felt calm until I saw my manuscript . My anxiety came back rushing with all these negative thoughts . I panicked , got dressed and left . I figured if it was out of sight it was out of mind . 

I ran and ran I ended up at a bookstore , ironic . I never felt confident that I was going to ever be able to publish my book and being in a store surrounded by books from successful people made me feel more insecure . I ended up walking to the nearest park and sat on this bench . How could I waste  years of my life on a book that has my blood , sweat , and tears well mostly tears . I just felt like it was a waste of time . I spent hours there in the rain just sitting thinking of what I could've done with my life all these years . 

I sat there on the bench long enough to the point where it had stopped raining . I was about to just give up when a thought came into my head , if I “ wasted “ seven years of my life on a book it had to be worth something . I finally started to feel a bit better and decided it was time for me to stop being sorry for myself . I got an uber back to my apartment , as soon as i got dropped off i dashed to my apartment almost bumping into a couple and grabbed my manuscript . The postal office was right next to me apartment so I walked over there and mailed my manuscript to my publisher . I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders . I finally felt satisfied . 

I called my family to let them know . I’ve never been supported by my family with my writing . They’ve always thought it was more of a hobby than a stable job but I knew they meant well . I always secretly wanted them to support me with what I chose to do so I guess that’s why I make excuses for them . Ring……..ring…….ring….. No answer . I can’t really say I'm Surprised , since I started writing my book we distanced and couldn’t really connect the same way we used to before . On my way back home I decided to distract myself so I went into this little thrift shop ran by this old lady . I was looking around when I randomly saw it .  

The infamous book . When I was in highschool I used to be close to my english teacher and she would recommend me her favorite books . Sadly she passed away the year I decided to start to write my book . I used to not read or write a lot but she recommended me a book that sparked my love for writing . I saw it sitting there just collecting dust . It hurt me just seeing the book that inspired me just there alone . I decided to impulsively buy it . Just going through the pages brought back so many memories for me . It was a pretty short book so I decided I was going to reread it .

When I read finished reading the book it gave me goosebumps I had the same feeling i had when I read it the first time It reminded me of why I started to write , why it made me so happy . I felt ashamed of myself for letting my writing stress me out as if it wasn’t something that I loved doing .  I decided that I was going to start feeling more confident about what I do and start being more passionate about it . If my family doesn’t support me who cares , I’m not writing for them I’m writing for me . I call my family again and surprise no answer . I leave them a voicemail telling them that I did it I finished the book without their support and I’m proud of it I didn’t need them . I tell them I give up on them I’m not going to worry or stress because what I’m doing feels good and they’re not going to make me feel bad about what I do . 

I decided to start my next book with the  inspiration of what just happened to me I figured there’s probably some other people who are lost after writing a book . It could kind of serve as a guide for them so they won’t go through the same bad phases that I went through thinking that my works not good enough . It might be able to help someone who needs somebody to tell them that what they’re doing is good whether or not they’re getting the support that they need . 

As I’m writing the first chapter I get a phone call from my publisher but it goes to voicemail since my phone was away . Once I get to it I get nervous to see what my publisher left on my voicemail . With two crossed fingers I unlock my phone to my voicemail and hear her voice say 

“ Jess I just finished reading your book and I love it , we’ll meet in my office monday at 2 pm . “

I jumped with excitement knowing that sometimes it’s about the journey . I finally felt complete .

June 16, 2020 08:20

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1 comment

Praveen Jagwani
09:16 Jun 25, 2020

It is a familiar though interesting plot. Self-doubt has consumed the greatest of artists, writers, actors, singers and such. You capture it well. I personally like happy endings, so your story works for me. At some place the transitions are a bit abrupt...from house to bookstore to park. But such things are minor as you get better with practice. The important thing is that you are giving your creative energy a vent. Well done :)

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