Congrats to me.

Like some angry bird with a hate on for smirking pigs, I have just launched yet another manuscript (my third) into the publishing stratosphere. And it was not easy.

Sure, there was a lot of work involved–especially when combined with my many new mommy duties–but that really wasn’t the hardest part. The hardest part for me: keeping the faith.

So far my writing career has not exactly been bursting with success. Sure,I did have an agent  agree to take on my very first manuscript–a memoir about my former life as a model–however no publishers ever did pick it up in the end and that project is now essentially dead. Still I pursued, only to be told by the same agent that my second manuscript, about a teen with telepathic powers,  basically needed to be rewritten.

In other words, so far nothing has really worked out, and yet somehow I am still here. Somehow I am still writing.

And though for the moment, I have no idea whether my newest little robin will implode inches before even coming close to the swine’s fortress or will actually take me to the next level for once, I do know one thing: the fact that I have managed to launch in the first place is something to be proud of.

Though I sure as hell hope it does slaughter some of those mo fos for once.