After countless hours of pushing myself to write a book, life flashed by and those hours turned into years. I'm told I was one of the lucky ones, I came across a publisher (Savant) that was willing to take a chance on an unknown. So another year of ripping the book apart and putting it back together in the editing process had passed and finally my book was a reality. I came home from work and my wife handed me a copy. I'll admit this was a great feeling of accomplishment but after the pats on the back and the good job Brian finally wore off, I recived my first royalty check for $17. I laughed because I was realistic but that being said, I had to ask myself. Was it really worth it?
To be honest in those years of putting the book together, in the back of my head hiding from the realistic me, I was imagining the book becoming poular and this being my new career.Was it really worth it? Right now my answer is yes beacuse that kept me in a positive mood all those years. It was as if I had the right to dream of a better life because I put the effort in. Stronger than the feeling you get when you buy a lottery ticket and think your going to win. Was it really worth it? Maybe I'm still dreaming...