《He Was Mine》About my Books and Rant about my life.

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Good Morning Everyone, (Trigger Warning, Abuse, Addiction, Suicide)

I hope all is going well. I felt the need to write on here simply to explain what has happened since He Was Mine, Swan Prince, and Vengeful Love were taken down from this platform. About two to three years ago. I was approached on here by a company called iReader.

They reached out and I'll admit I've had other offers from different platforms like Dreame, and many others. I'll admit I was excited. It felt good to be approached for my books because I always wanted to be a "writer". It seems silly now as I realize that is what I have always been.

I'd wanted validation a company of some sort to offer me a book deal. My dream has always been for a company like Random House or Simon & Schuster to publish my books. Books have been a very important part of my life.

When I was growing up. My father was an alcoholic and a drug addict. He would beat my mother in front of me and my two siblings. One of my earliest memory was of my father chocking my mother out with a belt. I can remember screaming, crying, begging him to stop because he was going to kill her. I was five. Soon after, he began hitting me too. As the years went on things only got worse. Although I did not know it at the time at just five years old I was already showing signs of depression, panic attacks, anxiety, and depersonalization. I was the oldest and while my mother worked I did my best to look after my little brother and sister.

I took them to school. Picked them up, made sure they ate. Picked out their clothes. Helped them take baths. Helped them with homework. I practically raised them on my own because my mother was always working. I cooked. I cleaned. I did everything I could for them all while feeling like I was nothing. I felt self-hatred, I did not like looking at myself in the mirror.

My father had said that he hated me because I looked like my mother. Since then I disliked my reflection and I would stare at myself in the mirror at just five and six years old for hours on end. I promised myself that I would change. I would so whatever it took to get him to love me again. I did well in school, I helped around the house, I waited on my father like a maid hand and foot. But nothing seemed to make him happy and the beatings never seemed to stop.

I won my first writing contest when I was eight. My teachers all praised me and my story was put on a bulletin board outside of the main office for all the teachers to see. Some teachers who taught fifth grade would often stop by my classroom and enquire about me. I'd beat even the fifth graders for that contest.

I was so proud because while I struggled in a lot of subjects writing was not one of them. I loved books. I loved to make up stories. Books were my escape at a time when I felt trapped. Authors like Shel Silverstein, Roald Dahl, Judy Blume, Peggy Parish, Sandra Cisneros, Ann M. Martin, and many more. I admired the creativity and loved to read their books as a child. As I grew I loved fantasy books, romance books, adventure books, mystery books.

All of this was my escape. I would go to the library get at least five or six books at at a time. I would then go home turn on some music and read to muffle out where I lived and how. I began to write when I stumbled on a website called winglin at age 11 or 12. I began writing fanfiction. Not very good ones but I was happy to get a couple views ranging from 25 to 100. From there I moved to Asianfanfics and later Wattpad.

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When I was fifteen I came down with a very bad case of pneumonia that landed me in the hospital for a month. I spent those days reading. I had the Twilight Books with me. I know. Typical teenager stuff but it was the most normal thing about me I supposed. By the time I graduated I was depressed, my grades stopped mattering and College was out of the question for me. I did not have the money or the will to go. I went to community college when my teachers all wondered what the hell I was doing there because I was "Better than that".

My depression continued and only deepened to the point I was having anxiety attacks daily. At this point we had left my father when I was seventeen so it made no sense that I seemed to be getting worse when I was supposed to get better. I dropped out of college that following semester. I spent months in bed, I couldn't find the will to get up. I spent all day looking at the wall. I had no perception of time at all. I somehow managed to find my will again by writing. Finding a job was harder. My first interview was a nightmare. I wasn't well off.

My mother struggled with us financially on her own our entire lives and when I went out to find a job now that my sibling were old enough to take care of themselves. I am five year older than the youngest. I was told to go meet this person. She worked for a large makeup company. They sell tons of perfume, makeup, and things of that sort. I was to be her secretary. My friend got me the interview. I had no "Good clothes" All I had were some black dress pants, and a shirt that was halfway decent. I rode a bus for about 45 minutes in order to get there. It was all the money I had to get there and back.

She made me wait for over an hour for her. Her old assistant was still there. She asked about my work experience and all that other stuff. I was young back then. My only work experience was working with children. I was a TA for an elementary school. After we finished talking she said she'd let me know but I could tell the answer was a no she'd had sour look in her eyes the moment she saw me. Before I left she said she hoped I would dress more professionally, more or less she read me to filth about the way I looked and dressed. I cried on my way home. I never told my friend about it because I was too embarrassed.

From then on, I was terrified of interviews. I would have panic attacks every single time I had an interview. I was terrified of what someone would tell me. In the end I found a job through an agency. It was short lived but I avoided interviews this way and I found a way to work. Now of course I'm much better. With therapy I have overcome a lot and this job that I currently have I've had for a fair amount of time. I work in an office with nice people. We can wear sweats if we want. But I can afford a lot more now. I don't have a flashy lifestyle or wardrobe but I keep professional style clothes in my closet for when I need them.

Therapy has helped a lot. The darkest part of my life happened about three or four years ago. I was in a very dark place. I was contemplating suicide. I stopped writing, I'd stopped, listening to music. I'd recently lost a job. It wasn't one that I liked but it helped keep me busy and helped get my mind off a lot of things. My mother talked to me one day and while she suspected what I was planning she confronted me and I admitted it to her.

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I ended up going to therapy about 2 weeks later. I have been with this therapist since then and I've really come to understand a lot about myself and the things that I need to move past. I was encouraged to continue writing and as I mentioned before it has been a large part of who I am and what I want to be. I am very insecure about a lot of things in my life. But never about writing. At least I wasn't.

When I was approached by iReader the person that did so made me feel like they were different. I've had other companies approach me and I never said yes because it didn't feel right. I could tell that all they cared about were views. But somehow this person made me feel as though they weren't just after my readers and views. After some back and forth I agreed to sign my rights for five years.

Things seemed of however when my "Editor" was switched out maybe twice in less than 2 weeks. This is where Editor known as Yukee became my editor. I was promised a new cover and as much as I love these covers I feared that copyright infringement would happen. They said they provided covers. Imagine my surprise when my editor handed me 3 covers of white men.

I was angry and sent a very angry email about white washing. She in simple words dismissed my concerns and told me to come up with a new cover myself, keep my original on wattpad or simply keep the one they were using. Also one was of a hetero couple. When I asked when my books would be posted or what process was needed after editing she also told me that they were posted already. We never discussed a price or anything. She simply split my chapters up to over 800 chapters and posted them up. She sent a screenshot when I asked her when she told me the books were up where I said let me know when my books are up so that I can promote them to my readers. Her answer was yes, they are up. But as I mentioned we had not discussed price. At most 16-21 dollars was as much as I was wanting. Even then, I thought it was too much but they said that was the lowest they could go.

When I was able to look at my books I literally spent a week crying. I felt humiliated, violated, and taken advantage of. Before the chapter knowledge I had stupidly promoted my books because I was not told anything. When I confronted her and told her to take my books down she said that I wrote too much and she had to split them up because people would get bored of my books that no one would read them. Not in those exact words but this is what came across to me. I begged her for weeks to do something but she instead stopped messaging me.

Eventually I was able to talk to someone else that worked for the company via facebook. Within a few weeks I received an email from Yukee who stated that she would not longer be working with iReader. Soon after 2 new editors were passed down. But as always once I asked for a fix or to have my books taken down no one answered.

The following months and now year were met with circles of me going back and forth with a stupid automatic answer. Filing paperwork trying to get a real person on the other end only to be met with nothing. I was promised a payment I believe in December of last year or the year prior. When I inquired about this they said I'd only made 42 cents off my books.

Then I read the reviews. People were calling this disappointing, a cash grab. They even said I had let them down as a writer. It's been extremely hard for me to continue writing. I've even thought of quitting. The stories I have up now on here.. now I'm scared to write. I fear it because I don't want to feel hope. These people took advantage of me. I talked to a lawyer who told me this case would be difficult for me to win. I don't have enough money for a good lawyer and all I can do is wait it out. But what if I can never get my books back? I wish I could just post them back up and forget this ever happened. They can keep the money they made off them. I don't care about that. This is about the things they have taken from me that matter. My confidence and my books.

I honestly don't know where I go from here. Someone else let me know that they can help me she also works for iReader. She told me to gather my evidence and send it to them. But I'm afraid to do so. I don't want to get my hopes up of my books being taken down. I am even willing to compromise so long as they are published they way in which I wrote them. Many editors I talked to try to defend Yukee saying that she simply wanted to make reading easier by splitting my chapter up the minimum of words per chapter was 3k. But she split chapter up to 1k even the ones that were 1k with a bit over she split. That caused them all to realize she most likely did it for money. Yukee even blamed me for the poor reads.

So please. Do not buy the books from that platform. They are expensive and when I promoted them I was not aware of how big a mess they were. But I should have done my research and I apologize for this. As I mentioned on my page this has caused great emotional distress. It has taken a toll on me physically and emotionally. I am mentally preparing myself for the next step of this but it has been almost 3 months and I still don't have the courage to do this. I will write again soon. Writing this has certainly helped me feel better if even a little bit.

I don't regret writing my stories because I was proud of them and they have been something I took time, love and care to write....

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