A few months ago, I met a representative of a big publisher at a pop culture convention. I told her a little about my book. She was interested. She gave me her card and asked me to send her a copy.
I knew that this was an amazing opportunity. I also knew it was my last opportunity. HTDC wasn’t gaining any sort of momentum, and I was almost ready to move on. I knew that if this publisher wasn’t impressed by my book, that I would stop trying, and move on.
The publisher responded a few weeks later and said that while they liked the idea, it just wasn’t commercial enough. It’s an understandable response. I couldn’t really disagree. So I packed up the little HTDC corner of my brain and put it away. I probably should have grieved for it, but I didn’t get the chance.
While on holiday over Christmas, I got a call from my mother telling me that Bernie, my most beloved little bird, had passed away. I’m not a good enough writer to adequately express how heartbroken I am. She was my best friend. There will never be another bird like her and I will miss her and love her always.
To make matters worse, all of this happened at the same time that I decided to stop taking antidepressants. I’m still not taking them, but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to cope. We’ll see.
Now, everything feels a little uncertain. But a new story is forming in my head. It’s one that has been knocking about in my head for a few years now. I think it is finally time to begin writing it.
When I feel more up to it, I’ll write a little more about Bernie, too.