It’s over.
You know that, don’t you?
Readers don’t miss you. They’ve already moved on. They have new favorites. Found better stories written by authors who actually publish books instead of hiding behind excuses and pretending they’re “working through something.”
They’re done waiting.
They’ve replaced you.
Just like your mother.
Mothers don’t abandon children they love. They give away their mistakes and hope that they never have to deal with them again. Your mother doesn’t love you, probably never did, and I really can’t blame her.
Can you?
I picture you sitting there every day, staring at the blank screen, hoping the words will magically appear, hoping that readers won’t forget you. That they’re still waiting for you, willing to overlook the fact that you’ve made them wait so long for the same garbage that you’ve written before.
They aren’t waiting.
They’ve moved on.
The longer it takes, the more obvious it becomes that your books were never that good to begin with. Now, they see who you are, who you pretended to be, an author who thinks she’s relevant, but now, they know exactly who you are.
A writer who can’t write.
You top DNF lists, get overlooked by even the most desperate readers, and your reviews are filled by one-star reviews warning others not to waste their time.
We both know how this ends.
It’s only a matter of time before you’re forgotten, replaced, and barely remembered by the readers who were once desperate enough to buy your books.
Until next month...
-Not Your Biggest Fan
The letter was snatched from his hand as he stood there, grinding his jaw, more furious than he’d ever been in his life.
“Amber usually gets rid of them,” Kristen said, shrugging it off as she tore the letter in half and dropped it back in the trash can.
“You’ve gotten these before?” Garrett asked, watching her as she made her way back to the couch.
“Every month for the past year,” she said, sounding bored as she dropped back on the couch and grabbed her computer.
“There was no return address,” Garrett said, watching her closely as she placed her fingers on the keys.
“There never is,” Kristen said as he watched her fingers continue to tremble.
She should have letAmber take over handling her fan mail when she had the chance, but she didn’t feel right about it. She hated not interacting with the readers every day like she used to, but she couldn’t handle the pressure right now.
She just...
She just needed to stop thinking about that letter and focus back on finishing this book, Kristen reminded herself with a firm nod as she slowly exhaled and-
Kept thinking about that damn letter.
She never would have opened the envelope if she knew what was inside. Instead of using the normal red ink, which made it easier to spot the letters, the writer had used a printed label and placed it on an ordinary white envelope. Knowing that someone was sending her those letters was hard enough, but actually reading one?
It destroyed the part of her that still hoped that this was temporary. It made her wonder if the fact that she couldn’t seem to write unless Garrett was there was the final step before she finally lost the ability to write. She-
