From my Facebook post in the wee hours of the morning:
“We are still masters of our fate. We are still captains of our souls.”
~ Winston Churchill
I’m ugly crying as I write the second chapter of my next book. I had never planned on writing this character’s story. But as the previous adventures unfolded, it became clear that she needed to be heard. Her voice had been stifled over and over. She’d suffered through no fault of her own. And she, maybe more than any character I’ve ever written, deserved her chance at a happily ever after.
She doesn’t feel like the master of her fate. The captain of her soul.
Not yet.
But she will.
I hope I can do her justice.
She is so far outside of my comfort zone, she might as well be on Mars.
I’d better stock up on tissues.
