(This description is not related to the book at all. I write about my reality.)
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I create worlds through my pen. 
My own reality. 
But even creators struggle with uncertainty and confusion. I do. 
Not because my imagination is limited. It's because I am scared of the unknown.
And confusion leads to confusion in my own life.
How does the pen not know what to write when its feathers are so tall and mighty?
I am who I am. There's no name to it. No name could describe entirely who I am or what I am. 
But you could call me The Lover. 
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What I'm about to say won't be believed by many. I was skeptic myself, till I noticed I wasn't the only one. I am connected to the book in many ways. Not because I was emotionally connected, I simply was. Every chapter I wrote, I felt it in real time. Every saddening moment, every erotic moment ( of course that is normal, but it was different than just reading an erotic book) I felt in real time the mental changes I was going through, the effect the General had on me. The way I felt so alone like I was stranded by reality itself yet I had people surrounding me everyday. What shook me the most is when I had a spa day in the book and it happened next day word by word. I received a platter from her mom out of nowhere, I was at my friend's house and she gave us a platter of food. I've gone many times and that never happened before. It was just like written. I don't know what connects me to it yet.
Every time after finishing a chapter and going through the day and night, stuff that happened in the book happened to me. Good and bad.
I finished the book in a very problematic way and my life turned upside down as well. I felt confused, stuck and lost my creativity. That's why I couldn't edit anymore my book. After months I pushed with willpower to continue the first chapter of the second book to get me out of that state and scarily, it worked.
It's hard to edit. I'm scared to feel again.