Where does all this sadness come from, and other thoughts…

When I was little, I used to draw crying girls. They’d be dressed differently, in different places, but always, always with a teardrop on their cheeks. My life was fine. I had a very normal childhood - though “normal” in late 80s, early 90s Turkey could be stretched to a Salvador Dali painting compared to the Western world - and I was okay.

My parents cared about me. Despite financial struggles, I received a good education. I was a performing student, an average child… who drew crying girls. Mum would ask me countless times, “Where does this come from?” But I never had an answer. Later, when I struggled in secondary school, Mum would take me to therapy and when the therapist asked me to, I wouldn't draw a crying girl. I think I stopped there and then. No more crying girls. A boarding school came a few years later, and I became the crying girl in there. Homesick and struggling to make friends. Perhaps the most unhappy times of my life? Still, no crying girls were drawn. Not one teardrop was doodled under the roof of that school.

I'm 43 years old now, and the book I wrote has so much sadness in it, I find myself asking the same question: where does it come from? Where? Are my crying girls back to haunt me?

People may quite possibly despise me after reading my character's - Sare Silverbirch - struggles. Sare can't let herself be weak. She can't afford to feel affection, because a heartbreak means death for her.

It's been years since I drew a crying girl, and I'm itching to do one right now... Perhaps I will once edits are done.

Needless to say, I’m writing another “crying girl” story. My second book is about Nar, who is haunted by her past and takes a job at a very special library to deal with it. It’s still in the works… I’ve got 40K words, which I’ve just scrapped entirely to start over because it wasn’t the right place to begin. (for me finding that spot is always many, many words and I'm not afraid to bin anything.)

Writing is joy but I feel a little worried about sending these books to bookshops. These books are fantasy, and they’ll be shelved as “Romantasy.” But there’s a small voice in my mind that nags at me. Romantasies these days are all about love, lust, and butterflies in private parts. Don’t get me wrong - I adore those books! I’ve read and loved many of them.

But my stories will always be about the crying girl. And sometimes, I wonder if I’m heading into battle armed with a pasta strainer instead of a helmet.

Then again, a pasta strainer is still protection, right? And let’s be honest, it’ll probably look good on me. :)

So, let me ask you one thing—please don’t hate me for writing crying girls and… ducks! (See what I did there? Cunning, aren’t I?)

Ehem. The not-so-baby ducks have grown almost the size of the adults. A question I asked often is their names so here you go: Duduck, Bowser, Kutkut, Rizzla, Jon Snow and Crumpet They love pea and snogging the grass for slugs, they're terrified of my 1 year old niece. They like coming to garden library because that's where the peas happen, but I try to fool myself thinking they just like the vibe and want to be near me. This week I saw my almost finished book cover and I still cannot believe it's mine. It's so beautiful. Beyond my dreams level of beautiful. Pick up my phone to gawk at it every half an hour level of beautiful. I'm not going to lie, I had my worries about this cover, but I am just blown away with it. The hard part will be waiting until it's 100% ready and I'm given the greenlight to share. But ... perhaps I can tell you, it has the book (The book of heartbreak is a book inside this book!), the wings, the feathers, florals, the sea and THE MAIDEN's TOWER.

I can't believe that's mine besties.

I can't believe it's going to be in people's hands this time next year.

I can't believe that child who used to draw crying girls is now a writer.

It was one damn long journey, but it's still going on... I'm Super Mario - the princess will always be in another castle. There will always be another story in my head. (Believe me, I had too many piled up all these years sitting in corporate meetings) I'm not complaining. I really am not. As long as I write fiction and not software code, I'll be here plotting and writing, hoping people will read (and like) it.

Wishing everyone a lovely weekend,

xoxo, crying girl