I read it, the first time since I wrote it almost ten years ago and I'm consumed with incredibly mixed emotions. I know I wrote it as a journal as we were bringing him up - almost to keep me sane because it was such an extraordinary thing to try and do - to break down and then rebuild a 13/14 year old who was way too smart and wordly for his own good. And that book had sat there for a decade untouched and unread by anyone until I picked it up with the view to publish it on Smashwords.
Who would imagine ten years after all that happened - I'm probably still too close to it to be able to tell if it would be of interest to anyone but me?
But it will come out shortly, some of it makes me laugh, some of it makes me cry, but mostly what's coming across it how much of a priority I made that kid in our lives and how that was unfair to my partner. But then it was also the beginning of the end of our relationship which broke up a few years later so I guess the reasons for that may be now staring me in the face for the first time in ten years. Maybe being confronted by that is the reason I'm having such a tough time working out just what it is I'm reading - Dramatic story, Comic journal, account of being driven crazy by a teen with a penchant for making bongs out of designer cologne bottles? I guess, when it's released the readers will make their own minds up.