In 2015, I started writing a book.
This was a little over a year after I had experienced a seemingly endless string of unfortunate circumstances. I made the decision — and I’m not too self-conscious to say it was a brave one at the time — to start writing a fictional book dealing with the feelings I had been associating with my life in recent years.
Writing about 85 percent of that book was actually a life-changing experience for me. It helped me process the things I had gone through and allowed me to abandon many of the grievances and grudges I had been holding onto for so long. It was kind of like therapy. No one ever tells you that having the freedom to kill off fictional characters counts as therapy, but it does. Right?
But what about the other 15 percent of the book? You might be wondering…
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