Why Call Me Cockroach?

It has been a while since I posted to this blog, and many of you know the reason is because I've been working on my second book, a sequel to Call Me Tuesday. Now it's completed and for sale in eBook format on Amazon and B&N, and the paperback is in the final stages. I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who encouraged me to tell the rest of my story, and then waited patiently while I pecked it out on my laptop.

The second book was almost as painful to write as the first. After the release of Call Me Tuesday, initially, I was embarrassed to reveal the many horrific and humiliating incidents of my childhood. But then after I received the reader response, I realized I had not been giving people enough credit for their capacity for empathy. My abusive upbringing had unfortunately caused me to fear people, and to be leery of the possibility of their cruelty. The compassion, and the brave sharing of experiences I derived from others after they'd read my story made me truly grasp that there are many in this world worthy of trust. During the writing of the second book, in order to convey the true essence of the damage I incurred as a result of my abusive childhood, I found myself having to once again disclose  more shameful personal experiences. But I was able to move forward because of renewed faith and trust that I can only attribute to the kindness of my readers. What a priceless gift! For that I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Because of the reactions I have been getting concerning the title of the second book, Call Me Cockroach--ranging from ooooh! to WTF--I feel I should address my reason for choosing it. While I had several options for a title, this one just seemed to fit my story and my struggles. Like it reads in the Prologue of the book, my daddy actually called me a cockroach, because of my ability to survive, not only under dire physical circumstances, but also the uncanny way I am able to disregard my emotions if need be to keep on living. Many people would have crumbled without essential parental love, and as a result of family turning their backs and doing nothing to help them. But I was somehow able to walk away from them all in search of people who would love me. Cockroaches, although not particularly appealing creatures, survive at all cost. In this way I feel a kinship with them, and I believe there are many more like me out there. With all this in mind, there was really only one choice for the title, and so I swallowed my pride and went with it.