Don't be deceived by the apparent confidence of a novice writer. A first novel requires humility, refusal to be afraid, expectation of rejection and having to face the possibility that no one will buy the book. Writing a gripping novel requires years and months of blood, sweat and tears too. Authors like anyone else, need copious amounts of support and encouragement. Most especially when it's a debut novel!

Well, here I am again, on my soapbox and full of conviction about what I need to say. Bear with me, as I take you into the dark under belly of an author's world. Writing a book is not as easy as it seems.

Any author will tell you that many hard lessons come with the territory. Most are already broken and humbled by the amount of times they are rejected before managing to secure a publisher who is willing to print the book in question. That is just one aspect of the various mine fields that need to be skillfully navigated. There are also the bad reviews which are written from time to time. Trust me, I have had one or two cruel, uncalled for reviews of various chapters of my book, which left me reeling and full of self doubt and insecurity for weeks. One of them was on Fanstory, the writer's site where I post my work. Fortunately, you can report anyone who you feel is being unfair and the administrator removes a bad review if he agrees it's uncalled for. In my case, he did agree with me and fortunately, my work was redeemed. When something like that happens or when I receive a great review for a chapter, it puts me am on a high for months. Then it's all worth it.

Please understand that I don't claim to be anything but a novice writer. My vision for Crimson As The Sun is varied. I want to pay tribute to those who died in the Rhodesian war; educate others about the history of Rhodesia; derive enormous enjoyment through the writing of the book; bless others and ultimately glorify God through my story. I owe it all to Him. He gave me the talent, perseverence and passion to write. As I have said before, I am truly humbled everytime someone tells me they want to buy my book. It always amazes me!

I owe so much to my husband Kevin, he has been such a wonderful support throughout the process and I could not have done it without him. We spent many hours brain-storming the plot, debating character names, dialogue and character descriptions. Alot goes into ensuring they are plausible and not phoney. I think he is as relieved as I am that the book is finally finished.

Through my involvement with a writer's club, I have learnt so much about the writing world. 'Fanstory.com' is full of so many wonderful, encouraging and inspirational people. I have made many friends and learnt so much about what it is to be a authentic writer. One of my fans is Fred Collingwood, He is an accomplished, published author who writes thrillers. He has helped me to polish my writing in areas where I was blind to the faults. Another of my critics is eighty-one! She is a wonderful, talented writer who I admire greatly. Her invaluable advice and wisdom is gained through many years of writing. I have another critic who has stretched me and taught me to be thick-skinned. On occasion, I have felt torn down by her frank and honest appraisal of my work. But after spending a couple of days licking my wounds, I realised she was right and my fragile ego was preventing me from growing. Now, we are good friends and I always seek her opinion.

Now onto my children's book. Some of you know it's about a runt of the litter rat, called Nigel who lives in the squalor of the London Underground. On the tracks to be precise. He is small and has a deformed ear and as a result his brothers and sisters mock him. He is a dreamer (Joseph and his techni-colour dream coat theme here) and has a bright waistcoat (see picture at top right of my blog). He comes up with a cunning plan to save himself and his brothers from a terrifying fate. Without giving away too much, it ends with him becoming the unlikely hero.

I bounced it off Gabriella, my youngest six year old daughter for valuable feedback. She laughed at the drawings of Nigel and loved the story. So, based on the fact it received great reviews, won a competition and the kids love the illustrations, I am hoping it will be a success. I managed to secure the services of a brilliant young student who is busy finishing the drawings. If all goes well, I hope to publish 'Nigel' sometime in 2011. I pray this is the year it will all happen.

Until next time.

Janine x

Another stay in the hospital...

Rebecca caught a simple chest cold and as a result her blood glucose levels were off the chart. The sad thing about diabetes is that anything can affect the glucose levels, at any given time. An infection, stress or hormonal changes. I have yet to look forward to puberty. I was amazed to hear that Rebecca would start going through hormonal changes soon. She is only ten years old, but my paedetrician informed me young girls start menstruating as early as eleven. Something to do with today's healthy lifestyle, hormones in food etc.

Managing diabetes is just like 'trying to hold jelly in my hands.' Just when I think I have a handle on it, the variables change. It is my responsibility to become a professional juggler and instead of allowing the ominous disease to control both myself and my daughter, I have to bend it into submission. Always ensure I am one step ahead. Education, education, education. I research the disease and read as much material as I can get my hands on.

I have grown to respect and admire my darling, brave and resilient child. I monitor her daily and can pick up on every emotion, mood change and sugar fluctuation before she tells me. When she's low she looks like Casper the ghost and starts to slur like she's drunk. Her legs shake and her eyes sometimes roll back. That's when I jump around and force feed her anything sweet.

Thank God, we have only experienced two of those such episodes in the past eight months. She is still struggling to come to terms with her new diabetes status and daily she grieves for her old life. On numerous occasions she says to me "Mommy, I want my old life back..." These words were like a knife through my heart. But I always counteract it with something positive. I try to encourage her by telling her that technology and research is very advanced and there will be a cure in a few years time. I also tell her that she will grow stronger through her ordeal and help lots of other diabetic children one day. I look for nuggets of wisdom to impart to somehow ease the sting of this wretched disease. But behind closed doors, I am left exhausted, emotional and heartbroken. It is there that I cry over my daughter's shattered dreams and wrestle with the suffocating terror I face on a daily basis.

After three days off school with a cold, I decided to take her to the doctor. As a result of the flu virus, her blood glucose readings were 20+, which is far too high. My paedeatrician advises I admit her straight into ICU! Her ketone reading is high. Ketones are like toxins that develop in the blood when the glucose levels are too high for a sustained period of time. Ketonacidosis can be fatal. Ketones can affect her brain and kidneys. A drip is inserted to flush out the ketones. This proceedure is traumatic for her as the skin on the top of her hand is thin. She screams when the needle is inserted. I bite my lip as once again I inwardly rage against the injustice of this illness. Sudden onset Type 1 diabetes! A illness she was never supposed to have. An otherwise perfectly healthy child who developed complications from mumps. Pancreatitis which developed into diabetes because the doctors didn't treat the pancreatitis. But that, in itself is a whole other story. I am not yet brave enough to write about it as it is still a bitter pill to swallow. The proverbial 'pandora's box.' A large festering, livid can of worms that is too big to dissect or come to terms with. So I just leave it alone. Pandora's box is on a shelf in the cupboard of my broken heart. One day I will truly forgive and forget. When I'm ready.

I spend an uncomfortable night sleeping in Rebecca's bed with her. Whenever we find ourselves back at the hospital, she seems to regress. She is no longer a ten year old child but a tiny toddler who needs her mommy's comfort. Perhaps the trauma of her experience in ICU when first diagnosed with diabetes is responsible for this regression. I indulge her and decided to sleep at the hospital. I arrange for my younger daughter Gabriella, to stay the night with friends.

Rebecca recovers and is sent to the paedeatric ward. The nurses are helpful and cater to her every whim. I shower her with presents and affection to take the edge off her hospital stay. It has become like a second home as she has had to be admitted once every four months so far. But, the down side is she has extensive blood tests for the next two days. She is doing well and tests are clear, until the third day, when her readings are high again and ketones are +4. Excessively high. She also starts to vomit and this is a bad sign. I start to stress and send a bulk sms out to all my friends, who faithfully pray for her.

Two hours later, the doctor comes back and does a second urine test. His findings are that there are NO ketones. He tells me that he thinks the first test was faulty, but I know better. This is nothing less than a miracle and I am eternally grateful and thank God for his gracious reply to all the many prayers.

We have never packed up so quickly to go home. We are elated and on a high and can't wait to just be home. The next day I wake up and greet the day with a happy heart and feel full of gratitude.

I am teaching Rebecca to embrace diabetes and find the good in a terrible situation. Now, we appreciate each other and our loved ones more. We treasure the small things in life. Warm cuddles and soft, wet kisses at night. Our favourite cat's purr in the morning and a delicious breakfast. Walks on the beach, the smell of roses, having fun together and learning more about each other and God.

Thank you to all you wonderful people who continue to faithfully pray, encourage and support us. A special thanks to one of my best friends Moira, who saved me in the most simple way. She plied me with good food and wine and had Gabriella for the night, when Rebecca was in ICU. Now that's what I call a good friend. There are far too many of you to count, but you know who you are.

Thanks for reading...until next time.