It Is Here
Sitting here with the darkness of my doubts, I’m elated to announce that my novel “Feylin Lore: Reflections” is finally released!
This has been a long road for me, with lots of mixed emotions—like a shrimp cocktail where some are fresh, others have turned, and I’m pretty damn allergic. I started writing this book in 2007 and originally embedded many encrypted messages deep within the text. This was an attempt to save someone close to me from a very toxic situation.
I did set her free, only too briefly, and the results have crippled my demeanor. Like a lost puppy eager to get fed or for another hit on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, she went back. No matter how bad it was, it’s all she knows. Now, she no longer knows me or anyone else who cares about her.
My failure to rescue her was intertwined with my failure to write. Years went by, and I couldn’t think about putting pen to paper without being reminded of the time I didn’t exceed my potential.
Recovery is a hard pill to swallow. It chokes you on the way down, and just when you think you couldn’t endure any more torture, you panic and gasp the smallest breath—keeping you alive, barely. Letting her go has allowed me to return to my writing. Over the past of couple years, I’ve rewritten 60% of the book, scrubbing away all traces of her from the manuscript and my mind.
Finishing this novel is not merely a transition period to my next endeavor. It’s my way of burying the demons that have been clawing at my being since the day I put everything on the line.
This is me forgiving myself for not saving her.
https://www.amazon.com/Feylin-Lore-Reflections-P-Wikoff-ebook/dp/B071VPR6LF/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1496940995&sr=8-1&keywords=feylin+lore[image error]
This has been a long road for me, with lots of mixed emotions—like a shrimp cocktail where some are fresh, others have turned, and I’m pretty damn allergic. I started writing this book in 2007 and originally embedded many encrypted messages deep within the text. This was an attempt to save someone close to me from a very toxic situation.
I did set her free, only too briefly, and the results have crippled my demeanor. Like a lost puppy eager to get fed or for another hit on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper, she went back. No matter how bad it was, it’s all she knows. Now, she no longer knows me or anyone else who cares about her.
My failure to rescue her was intertwined with my failure to write. Years went by, and I couldn’t think about putting pen to paper without being reminded of the time I didn’t exceed my potential.
Recovery is a hard pill to swallow. It chokes you on the way down, and just when you think you couldn’t endure any more torture, you panic and gasp the smallest breath—keeping you alive, barely. Letting her go has allowed me to return to my writing. Over the past of couple years, I’ve rewritten 60% of the book, scrubbing away all traces of her from the manuscript and my mind.
Finishing this novel is not merely a transition period to my next endeavor. It’s my way of burying the demons that have been clawing at my being since the day I put everything on the line.
This is me forgiving myself for not saving her.
https://www.amazon.com/Feylin-Lore-Reflections-P-Wikoff-ebook/dp/B071VPR6LF/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1496940995&sr=8-1&keywords=feylin+lore[image error]
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