I am about to confess something weighing on my mind...

There are times when a human just has to tell the world the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth! But, it's hard to do. Especially, for me!

I know this blog is meant to talk about books and giveaway amazing gifts, but lately I've been using to give you an insight of my life. Some have enjoyed it. Some of unsubscribed. I get it and I understand. 

However, opening up myself to you all has really helped me personally and I'm going to continue. I hope you enjoy them as well and - possibly - helping you as well.

Let the confession begin...

I am human. Shocking, I know. Nonetheless, I am and - to top it off - I have feelings. A lot of them! At times, I can keep bottled inside. (Well, I usually do that). I pretend my world is perfect via social media (as most people in the world do) and most of all - I keep the smile on my face. 

Now, I'm a naturally bubbly person. I love waking up in the morning, thankful for food in my fridge (and in my belly), clean water and a roof over my head. I'm not lying. Ask anyone I know... they'll tell you the same. It's not a game or a act. I am happy. 

Then there are times, the smile is fake. Like I said, not always, but there are times. 

Recently, I told you about my current reads of self-help/self-improvement books and how they're helping me, how I never thought I would be driving off to my local bookstore, strolling through the section, trying to find the next best read to open my mind and change my life. 

In 2018, I published one book and one novella (part of an anthology). It had been the least amount of books I published since starting my writing career. The reason: I gave it up. Not because of the money. (A lot of Indie-Authors aren't millionaires). Not because of the crappy reviews or lack of reviews. (I get it! I don't love every book I read and bad reviews can be helpful!). Not because of all the bullying going on social media because I'm a KU author and (most) traditional authors hate us. (You can't please everyone!).

I wanted to quit, because the mojo - the love - was gone.

It disappeared.

I had a lot going on in my personal life. I had a day job and wasn't happy in. (I used my fake smile A LOT THERE!) My husband and I were going through a  rocky patch. (My fault - not his.) My mother was having health issues. (And it scared me!)

Hence, mojo left me. 

The big reason... and here is part of the confession... I wasn't good enough to be an author. 

See, I'm human. I'm that person who compares herself to other authors. I couldn't figure out my books weren't selling, when someone else (who just started) sold so many they hit the NYT/USA list on their first try.  I couldn't figure out why I had more bad reviews than good, but readers praised me on Facebook. 

I compared myself hard enough to quit. 

And it sucked!!!!!!!!

I've been writing since I could write my name. My first 'story' was about Rainbow Brite, She-Ra, and I as we went off to safe the world from the evil Transformers! (Ask my mother! I put on a whole production in the living room!) It has given me an escape from the real world. Just like reading. I spent every possible minute  in the library, reading all the forbidden books a young child should never read. (Jackie Collins, Danielle Steele, you get the point.) You can still find me in the library trying to hunt out the best reads! 

I spiraled into a dark hole. 

I don't want to say depression, because I don't think that's what it was. Could I be wrong? Sure! However, I've seen (and know) people with depression and it's scary how my friends get up everyday. Depression is no joke. Seriously! It's NOT A JOKE! Which is why I don't think I was depressed. 

I was lost.

I stared at my laptop screen, or my notebook paper, and no words would come out. Nothing. Not a single word. And it pissed me off. Being mad at myself had been an unfamiliar emotion. Sure, I'm super over-weight, but I love myself. Sure, I don't have supermodel good looks, but I love myself.

So, being mad at me... made me confused at what to do next.

I know what I'm going to do everyday, because I have it planned. I make a list for everything and I consider myself "A Fixer." Now, I'm not like Olivia Pope or anything, but I fix problems. When my friends come to me, it's because they have a problem and it needs fixed. Ta-da! I fix it!

But I didn't know how to fix myself.

Hence, the self-help/self-improvement books.

Sometimes, it's takes a outsider to kick you in the ass and get you back on track. Truly! Because there's a lot of people that have been through the same problem and came out on top.

This is what happened to me.

Books saved me. Again!

Since having this epiphany, I woke up. I started taking creative writing classes to find my mojo. I started taking marketing classes (from high-end authors) to find out what I had been doing wrong with reaching readers. I listened to my core readers more. (I reached out to them and asked what they hated about my books and what would they fix). 

Soon, the mojo was back. Words were flowing out onto the pages. 

Then I hit the USA Today list with a group of amazing authors in a charity anthology. Readers began asking me for my books again and I rushed to finish the words.

Then my world hit another wall.

My mother's cancer came back and with a vengeance. Something I couldn't fix and I became lost again.

Besides my husband (and yes, our personal problems are longs since forgotten and we've moved on), my mother is the only immediate family I have left. My dad past when I was a teenager and I'm an only child. My mother has been my rock since the day she found out she was having me. She worked hard (2-3 jobs at a time), to ensure I had it all, but showed me how hard work is what pays-off in the end. We were never rich! I can remember the summer of 1991, when we had no electricity because Mom was laid off and she paid the rent and purchased food, before paying the light bill. I can remember in 1987 we slept in the back of a  1977 Ford Thunderbird, because she didn't have a job. But she smiled everyday to me and told me it would be okay. 

She would fix me and when I got older - after her body broke down and she couldn't work anymore - I fixed her. 

But I can't fix cancer. My powers don't go that far. And I started hating myself because I couldn't fix her.

As she was wheeled to surgery, she still had a smile on her face, even though she was about to lose her voice box (never speaking again) and having her entire throat reconstructed. 

FYI: she's still in the hospital but doing great! Still smiling. 

Last week, I read a book. Yes, another self-help/self-improvement book. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Mason opened - yet another - door of my life. See, I do care what people think of me. A lot. I'm okay with bad reviews, but it still stings. I'm okay with people staring at my overweight body, but it still stings. I'm okay with people annoyed with my smile, but it still stings.

I want everyone to love my books. I want people not to judge me because I wear a size 20 jeans. I want people to enjoy my personality. But, hey, you can't please everyone. I should know this after my 39 years on this Earth.

However, Mark Mason's words hit me hard. People are going to have their opinions, but it shouldn't stop you from living your life. He's right. I want to be a great author. I took all these classes to improve my talent (or what I think is talent) to have readers say, "Hey, great book, Mary!". I want people to see that I've - recently - began losing weight and say, "Hey, great job, Mary!". I want people to see my smile and say, "Hey, thanks for the pick-me-up, Mary!". 

Okay, okay, I know that won't happen all the time and people have said those things to me, and I'm thankful for each one of them. 

The point of all this rambling, is to confess … I care about me and I love me. I'm an author with the greatest readers in the world. I'm an overweight female, who is slowly losing weight and getting healthy. Not because of society's standards, but for me. I'm a happy person and it's not to be fake or annoying, but because this life is short and there should be more smiles/laughter, instead of pain. 

Thank you for all the support and I promise more books coming. They will be the best that I can do and I hope you all love them as much I do.!

XOXO,
Mary!