The Heaviness of Breathing: The worst book ever written

November is a blue month for me, and not because it's cold, windy and rainy, but because it reminds me of my communist childhood.

When I decided to invest everything in a writing career, I thought that my books would be as funny as my blog posts used to be.
I don't know what happened, but my stories are everything but humorous.
I can't write a full book on a funny note.
It appears that I am a drama author, tragedy is my main subject. So much melodrama.
I am disappointed in me.

Anyway, last night I have published the worst story ever written.
An endless journey of self-destructive feelings that condition my existence. My mind is my worst enemy, the cruelest.

I don't expect people to read The Heaviness of Breathing.
I wrote it as a therapy hoping it would break the chain of unfortunate events in my life.

If by any chance, people read this dreadful story, they might conclude that I am a very self-focused individual.
The irony is that I am just the opposite.

I postponed the publication of it for a very long time.
I kept correcting expressions, words, grammar and I, most likely, messed up even worse.
What I mean is that the book is not professionally edited and English will always be a work in progress for me.
I am ashamed, and I feel guilty that I dared to publish a non-edited book. I had no other choice.
I hope you won't despise me for that. I do it for you if it makes you feel better.

I risked and sacrificed everything to pursue a career in writing.
In these three years, I have learned and accomplished many things, but I don't feel elated, quite the opposite.
I wish I earned a living from writing, but I am very bad at it.

For those who never tried to do what I am doing, this might mean that my stories are not good enough that's why I don't succeed.
I don't blame them, I used to think exactly the same.

If among those who read this are writers who gave up publishing, they know that talent matters until a certain point.
There are millions of incredible stories out there but no one knows about them.

In the writing sector, to make a career, you need someone to promote your work by any means necessary.
Connections and money are the only way.
I don't have any of these and I am not 20 anymore. I started too late.

Of course, it's not only in this sector that people struggle to make a career, but if you think how long it takes to write and read a book, you'll see why it's harder here.

I am frustrated and I am dishearted, but I knew it wasn't going to be easy.

The pages of this book are filled with my darkest thoughts.
It is, without exaggeration, maybe not exactly the absolute worst story ever written, but among the worst.
What a nice publicity, isn't it?

The Heaviness of Breathing is a testament of forlorn hope - the complete opposite of all my self-help books, especially of It's Never Game Over. 

The Heaviness of Breathing is the other side of the coin. 
November's blues.

I would like to express my gratitude to Pixabay from where I take most of the pictures I use for my covers.
This one was published by Engin_Akyurt who I thank from the bottom of my heart.
Thank you to those who publish their work and allow it to be used free of charge.

P.S. If you are a member of my family, please do not read The Heaviness of Breathing, and do not tell my uncle I have dared to expose my soul in this manner.