#31 The second
I did it. I finished the first draft of my second novel, and I am nervous and exhausted because I know this is just the beginning. I went through this with my first novel, when I was riding on hopes and dreams of being a published author, to prove to myself —-and the rest of the Universe— that I could do it.
So far, I’ve secured the publishing of my first novel for next year (2026) and prepared myself for a new round of Querys. In the next months, I’ll be looking for an agent like Disney Princesses used to look for a Prince while I deal with edits of my first novel and, probably, the second, too. Who said writing was boring?
Below is the Prologue of my second novel. It might trigger your curiosity; let me know if that’s the case.
The Prologue
How is your life? Do you think you are happy? Did you reach your full potential and enjoy the privileges of a good job? Or do you struggle to reach the end of the month? Do you have love, or are you settled with the best you can find? Have you reached your breaking point? I did.
On a sunny day, surrounded by my girlfriends and a few strangers, I couldn’t hold it anymore:
“If I had children, everything would be easier. My life would be better.”
I stared at them, looking for confirmation, waiting for someone to tell me I was right, but no one said a word, as if they knew better… as if I were wrong.
“Things should be different now,” I continued. “I have dreams.”
Once more, the look… and from their side, nothing.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I asked, but the silence was deafening.
This was my breaking point. If I were in a movie, the camera would turn to me, and you would see my face red and bloated, the sunglasses hiding my teas, and what we could reasonably describe as the image of a woman in distress. Either that, or I was just a mess. That could be as well. You might be wondering who I am and how I reached this point, and those are valid questions I should answer. After all, I am trying to tell my story, which could be the story of millions of women around the world and, eventually, of a few men as well. I never thought I would dare to open up like this, but after all that happened, I better do it myself before anyone writes a silly novel about a ridiculous woman. That’s not who I am, but if you don’t know me… well, everyone is free to judge, right?
