It's been so difficult to find time to write over the past few years. I'm nearly done with writing the first chapter of Zhenya's tale and it's really surprising to find that it has taken me so long. At this point, I'm just thankful that I've been able to write. I'm glad this novel isn't going to turn into one of those millions of unfinished stories out there, just lingering in the imaginations of their authors and readers.
I say 'birthing' in the title, but it really feels like I've wretched something up slowly–not unlike a tapeworm lodged in your stomach and extracted through your esophagus. Don't worry, the story isn't gross like a tapeworm. It's very sweet and loving.
