There is nothing more frightening then letting someone else take credit for your work. I have no other way to describe the feeling other than a terrible analogy that would seem out of perspective. I feel as if I have given up a child for adoption. I created it and it is mine and it could simply not exist without me, however I have no rights and no input in any decision making, I am simply the biological parent. I willingly obliged to the terms and condition but I was not prepared for the emotion I felt. Knowing that the first thing I wrote that would get published did not have my name on it. It didn’t seem right that I wasn’t involved but I had no real reason to be upset. They weren’t my ideas. I simply brought words to concepts conjured by someone else. I was a helping hand and nothing more. I got paid and negotiations went well but it was oddly heartbreaking. The most humorous part of my feelings came from that I would never in a million years want to put my name on the product I produced. I would never read something like what I wrote and I would never want a smutty romance getting back to me when I went to publish something with substance. It was a child that could not thrive in my life or match with my current ambitions. It was best to put it in someones capable hands. I have been tasked with wondering what a young me would ave thought about ghost writing. IF I was younger I would have told myself to hold out until I could get a paycheck for a book that had my name on it. I have always favored the cleanest scenarios but a little grit never hurt anyone. It continues to weigh on me in different ways but I know for certain that I will enjoy the day when my success is my own and not an apparition.