I have been sucking on that piece of candy for such a long time now – my story. Writing, editing, re-writing and re-editing again. I have let other people read it, I have listened to their feedback. Now I´m done with t all, but still I feel as is I have to read it all once again, so I don´t miss the last corrections I might have to do.
My story is my child. It was born immature, unable to do anything about itself. I have taken care of it, nurturing it, helping it on its way for such a long time. And now when it seems to be fulfilled it´s time to let it go. It´s a process of grief and trust that I will have to go through. How hard!