Even the best written manuscript can lead you nowhere. I had hoped to have had some kind of success with my writing by now but no such luck. My friends and family rush behind me to support me until it is time to actually buy a book they are no where to be found. I am a forty year old warehouse worker. What that translates to is that I am doing a job created for a twenty to twenty five year old person to do. I have been rode hard and put up wet and beat like a rented mule. I am saying I am old and I feel it. Writing was suppose to be my way out of waking up every morningย dreading where I have to go.
