For the two of you who may see this, I'm officially calling it quits with writing. A while back, before posting this story online I crashed and burned with my dreams of producing all the stories in my head. It was very obvious to me that my first story of many (this one) was unmarketable as a debut novel and my years of work on it was basically wasted. That was beyond devastating and my fault for having the idiot idea of making what I wanted and writing the story I liked rather than pay the piper and make genre trope filled crap until the Gods decreed I was worthy to have an original idea. Self publish? Maybe but I can't market for crap. I don't have that time either. So just put it up online for free for people to enjoy and hope people see it that way.

But I just can't do it anymore. I can't take the feeling of rejection from popping on after a year of posting and seeing no comments, no likes, etc. Any tiny bit of engagement feels like a tease. This dream's last death rattle just doesn't bring me joy, only depression at seeing my hope spasm with the CPR I tried to give it. Better just let it go.

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I'm sorry Dhanur, Janurana, characters I haven't posted yet from later chapters like the head of the Gwomon. I'm sorry to Leta and Leopthf, to Ina, The Lady in Red, Xoi and Xoid, Vassar and Vaniva, and all the characters who will never leave my head and notes. You deserved someone better than the failure who couldn't even read enough to write proper prose.

I'm sorry to the couple of people who actually did enjoy this. You're the ones who make this hardest of all, like I'm being a selfish child who can't appreciate what he has. But there's nothing more soul crushing than an empty theater on opening day and it's even worse when only a couple people show up too because then your failure isn't personal, it's seen by a couple others.

I'm sure my wife will not like this post here, but I just can't do it anymore. For what it's worth, I don't even have an ending to this damn story yet... Real great job, buddy.