Ever since I opened Scribblory (my writing business), I keep getting this nagging thought of you-don't-have-the-right-to-do-this or you-are-not-good-enough. You see, there is this glaring fact that I have no formal training in writing nor huge accomplishments in the craft save, of course, my dear memoir, Finding You, which has found a seat once in the "Best-Selling Books" shelf,... Continue Reading →
I should go back there
If you'd browse my stack of old, worn-out, messed-up-to-the-last-page journals, you'll see how plenty of check boxes I had drawn there with the words "write and publish a book" beside them. Month after month, year after year, I would write on the last page of a journal notebook then get a new one. And each... Continue Reading →