These aren't a collection of happy poems. Maybe that's why in those final moments, I panicked. They are examinations into the failures of my life. They are poetic diary entries that may or may not raise eyebrows. I'll put it this way--I might end up on a heck of a lot of prayer lists after someone I know purchases this book. However, that's part of the challenge. That's part of the risk. While someone else might identify, I risk alienation and haaaard looks from people I know. Don't all writers go through that? Still, as an introvert hungry to making writing her career, that's part of the challenge--open up, expose, crack that shell. If not before, now they know--Roni's a little wacky.
Still, I decided to publish it anyway. How can I call myself a writer--even if it's on the amateur level--if I keep all of my thoughts, ideas, and projects to myself? How will anyone hear my voice? Sure, I post on blogs and record on YouTube, but how does anyone really know? How many people will it reach? Just like other mothers release their human babies to the world, it was time for me to release my literary baby to the world--seen or not. I had to challenge myself to release this baby. Have confidence that at least one person (and she is a lovely lady) would purchase my work. I had to challenge and fight myself to think positively--my poetry deserved just as much of a voice as anyone else's.
I will say "Four Years is my baby" about a million times. I suppose that is because I've started and stopped so many poetry projects that it seemed impossible I'd ever finish. I started strong, kept going for a week, then stopped. When I stopped, I got bored. When I got bored, my heart floated away from faith in what I was doing. Once I set the goal--finish adding the poems by the end of 2012--I wanted to see it through. Despite the wavering interest and the stigma against self-publishing in my head, I went ahead and did it anyway. On the 13th of February, I began the steps to publish my work.
Four Years might be about the struggles I go through, but it no longer belongs to my experience alone. I opened myself and shared things so that someone else wouldn't feel so alone. It goes far beyond wanting my writing voice heard--it's for anyone who has felt alone, angry, or flat-out unlucky in love. While it comes from a feminine point of view, I'd like to think that anyone going through something can find themselves in my book.
To purchase a physical copy, visit CreateSpace ($7.15)
For the Kindle, visit Amazon. ($7.00)