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When you write, you let it all go; when you publish, you set yourself free. You wish for your book to get wings and fly into the homes (and tablets) of many:
Tag: <span>Memoir</span>
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My book “Losing It All” is now a hardcover, a paperback, and, of course, an eBook. Not just at Amazon globally, but also at Lulu and Barnes and Noble. What an exciting week it has been to see it all come to life. Fly, little book, I’ve set you free.
We turned left on the old gravel road and waved a last goodbye to my best friend, who was holding our little dog in her arms. Then we closed the windows, and we focused on the road ahead of us.
We waited for Kurt’s background check. We were both nervous and fearful, for different reasons. “He wants me to co-sign for a car,” she told me and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You will not do that, right?”
In school, we got tormented with Latin phrases, many I learned and forgot but some I still remember to this day.
Fortes fortuna adiuvat – Fortune favors the strong/brave
Being strong or brave often means taking a risk. No risk -no fun! Will the brave not just have luck but also be entertained? And what makes us strong? Pain? Love? Hunger? The knight in the fairytale is willing to slay the dragon, and in exchange, the king will allow him to marry the princess. Is it insanity or bravery? Perhaps a mix of both? Maybe the promised reward affects our courage more than anything. If the princess is pretty enough and the kingdom is a nice one, it might be worth risking your life.
All we needed was THE ONE PAYCHECK people always talk about. The one that can make the difference between being homeless and having a place to call home. We had fallen off the cliff, and now we were trying to climb back up. We were ready to move mountains, and desperate enough to jump into the unknown -blindfolded. All we needed was one chance to make it all happen.
We had been eagerly waiting to get the rental agreement for our new home. Finally, late at night, there was an email in my mailbox and it showed an attachment. When I read the email and opened the contract, I got a bad feeling. The original plan to meet at the house the day we would arrive had now been changed to Please transfer the money, I will send you the keys. He explained he was too busy.
Mardi gras was over, Lent, the time of fasting and sacrifices before Easter had begun. Just like every year, my friend hauled me to a Catholic church on Ash Wednesday, and we left with an ash cross on our foreheads. Remember that you are dust, and to dust, you shall return. I didn’t need that reminder. We had just hit rock bottom, and I felt lower than dust or dirt.
It was the first time we openly shared the fact that we were broke -it felt odd. Part of me was relieved, the other part felt ashamed. Later that evening, we told him OUR STORY, not for pity or sympathy, but because we needed to confront reality. We had been so sheltered and comforted at my friend’s home, we had been so busy, it almost felt like we had been hiding from the harsh truth that we still were homeless (house-less), and had nothing but debt to our name.
It all started out like an ordinary day. Kurt would leave the following morning and would be gone for two weeks. He stopped by the kitchen for a short while, we enjoyed a few test patties, later he went back to the house and spent the rest of the day in their bedroom, watched films, and packed his things.