Figuratively, life won’t stop for anyone, so there’s no reason to hunt sympathy from a world that won’t always provide mercy if any. It’s not often that the free-willing mind produces a novel due for publishing or success. I discovered that truth myself many years ago. I suppose writing a book to express one’s imagination will not always be the same as an appropriate novel, as they are often chaotic and not directed appropriately enough for an appealing story.
How intriguing a tale that is; you had my unparalleled attention from the second sentence. It’s been quite some time until someone gave an elaborate response beyond simple small talk. Your earlier occupation truly does sound troublesome—not that the second wasn’t in regards to the indignity implied. I suppose the respectable response to what you’ve shared isn’t sympathy, but rather admiration. Your textual tone implies that you’ve accepted what’s occurred and moved on; that alone is worthy of admiration.
And I’m flattered by your perspective towards writers. I never really pondered that concept. I guess I am courageous to a degree. I believe that true understanding comes with one’s willingness to accept that stories both good and bad have a profound influence on us, and that writing is excellent exercise to widen the horizons of one’s mind; there’s a much bigger world than what most are willing to see. I’ve found that my capacity for empathy and understanding has improved due to writing.