Chapter 74: Love letter to my bookie-wookie

Before I launch So You Are… Pregnant! into the world – regardless if it reaches 6 or 6000, I’d like to put my dreams out there first of what I hope it achieves.


I’m not going to lie… you’ve done my head in. You’ve been a one wheeled roller-coaster ride with never-ending dodgy mechanics and rusty, nutty bolts. At times I have really not liked you at all. You have been quite the sucky friend.

But, like most good friends who test you a little and don’t put up with whingeing because they know deep down you’ve got the gumption – you have also lifted me, inspired me, made me cack myself out loud and forced me to remember – me.

I was set on writing an historical fiction – a fantasy bit of fluff I thought was destined to be my first novel – and for a while I was truly bitter about not being able to tend to it because of you. Every time I’d go into Scrivener and try to drop myself into Victorian era Freo – something would draw me out. Another memory, or a funny moment, or the perfect line for a particular scene.

You were supposed to be my experiment, with any luck a trickly cash flow just to prove I was capable of selling maybe a couple hundred books.

There were sooooooo many times I resented you.

I kept trying to down play you and rush you like you were inferior. Like you were actually an easy task that could be polished off in a few months.

What a moron!

You were the most complex, fiddly little fcker that took up every last second of my very, very precious time. You were – ironically – like a baby!

Did I obsess over you? No. Absolutely not. What I did do was start treating you less like a blog, or a social media post – and more like a novel. Because you deserved to be. A far cry from my initial plans. The original idea was to do what I do – write like I talk, but make it super casual, like I was chatting online with friends or family. But you morphed and evolved and try as I did to resist and rebel against it – so did I.

Now we are nearing the end. You are still no where near perfect, but neither am I and that’s cool. Really.

So here’s my hopes and dreams for you before I set you off into the world of fans, trolls, lovers, haters and everyone and everything in between:

  1. I hope you reach those who really need you. People at the start of their journey. People in the midst of it. People like me who are long past the baby having stage, but still carrying around a some things from the experience. People struggling with any trauma causing event who need an encouraging boost to acknowledge, process, and hopefully recover and move forward.

  2. I hope people do take one of the only leads I can offer and heal themselves and upgrade – so we can step into our roles as healers and nurturers and get on with the good stuff together.

  3. I hope you make people laugh their arses off. I hope people reading it in public crack up as loudly as my friend did and got lots of odd stares. I hope they see my madness in themselves and forget the bullshit we’re being steered towards, and the ridiculous pressure we all seem to be under… even if for a moment relish in the sweet silliness of being a nong. Truly – it’s far more powerful and empowering than any wank out there right now and way more fun.

  4. I hope you shine a light on all the takeaways – the good and not so good. But I hope you don’t become a tool for victim-bingeing, witch-hunting or general poo-pooing. That’s not what any of this is intended for. Rather, I hope you spotlight, highlight and bright-light the heart of humans, the goodness of random people, the act of taking the higher ground (or at least attempting to) no matter how fricken hard it can be at times.

  5. But most of all – I hope you bring joy to people across the globe who need it.

Good luck.

I believe in you.


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