Writing has become more and more of a focus for me lately.  I started getting into a new book I was writting but now have decided to focus back on editting the one I finished already.  I’ve been away from it for a while so it feels good to look at it again.  It is like that cliche, looking at it with new eyes.

          At this point, I’m starting to get very excited.  I just finished editting the first five chapters. I am extremely happy with them.  It is funny because all of the sudden I am wanting other people to read it.  Today was the first time since I started that I had that feeling.  There was one line I editted that I just sat back and said, wow, I can’t wait for someone else to read that.  It was such a good feeling.  Pride in your work is important no matter what you do and I feel like in this case it is saying that things are falling into place. 

          I also had a huge realization.  I am not Angelina Jolie nor am I John Green or Kathy Reichs.  I am never going to write something that I think is as life changing as Notes from my Travels, as well written as Paper Towns, or as interesting of a read as Deja Dead.  That is fine.

            But the catch is, none of those writers are going to ever tell the story of Natalia Rizzello like I am.  Plain and simple, they can’t tell the story I am writing like I can.  Absolutely nothing against them but it is true.  It is the same of most books and authors out there.  Like Nicholas Sparks could never write a Harry Potter book as well as J.K. Rowlings even though obviously he is a great author. 

          I’m not trying to say I think I’m this absolutely amazing author or anything but I do honestly feel that I’m doing justice to the story I am telling.