I submitted my first book for publishing. It isn't the kind of thing that would be included in the lofty western canon, but the kind of work that is quirky, silly and very me. I sent it out with great hope that it will be well received by the publishing house.
I wrote most of it in a coffee shop on a day I was feeling particularly lazy, and he was procrastinating hard. However, life interfered with me officially sending it off.
One of the nice things about being in the midst of a reset is that everything seems so possible again. I might as well throw all the spaghetti on the wall and see what truly sticks--Felix be damned.
The weird thing about being in a reset is that you have to ask for help from people you didn't think liked you very much, like your mom. She shows up with such presence you wonder where this woman was the entirety of your childhood. Parenting is stressful and I suppose that in the weeds we are all harried monsters clucking away desperately at the offspring who is inevitably disappointing us.