Who is LuLu?

LuLu may have been quiet and little, but she was a mouse for whom life was never dull. Everything she decided she might quite like to do, she did—and that included raising mouselets, writing stories and growing ideas.

One day she compiled a book that she thought others might enjoy too. This book covered a nook within a niche of a market and she knew that the big publishers would probably not be interested in it or her (she was such a little mouse, after all), so she decided to enter the world of epublishing herself.

The door to this world was sparkly and green, and it sprang open as soon as her paw tinkled the golden bell on the door. She stepped over the threshold and into a cathedralesque hall where she couldn’t help but stare. The colours were magnificent; the decor, dazzling. A pizzicato harp-strum streamed into her right ear and out through her left. It took minutes for her eyes to adjust to the splendour and, when they did, she noticed two very big doors and many smaller ones leading from the main hall, on multiple levels.

She move into the centre of the hall and became conscious of glowing wisps flitting between the doors. ‘Choose me,’ they whispered on their own breeze and, while they all had multiple opinions to share, each had information about a limited number of doors. It became clear to her that the wisps would be of no help; she would need to find her own path. She would start with the very big doors.

At first, she was enthusiastically attracted to the minimalistic visage of the door on the roof, in spite (or, perhaps, because) of its difficult placement. Getting to the roof was fairly easy, given her rock-climbing skills. Even kung fu fighting her way past the weasel henchmen left her relatively unscathed. It soon became clear, however, that this path was modelled after an ancient endurance test.

She opened door after door after door, always finding a new and heavily-guarded door behind the last, occasionally slipping into trapdoors (she did that twice), and being constantly presented with new bits of paper to read and sign. She was exhausted and, it seemed, no closer to her goal. She shuffled back to the centre of the hall, round-shouldered, beaten.

She approached the biggest door with some trepidation. It had been right in front of her from the start and she had learned to be wary of objects placed in her direct path—but this door, and most of the other doors she opened after that, revealed rooms that were easy to explore. She began to filter the wisps’ messages, and also learned to leave any doors that were stuck or guarded well alone. Thus she discovered that the easiest route was the best for her, in this world at least.

When she eventually extracted herself from this place that was no longer strange to her, she hugged her mouselets tight and merged her unique experiences into an ebook publishing house (that later extended into all publishing and writing services).

And, to this day, she provides publishing and writing services under the name of LuLu was a mouse—even though LuLu’s not so little, or a mouse, anymore.

LuLu was a mouse. Wonderful words. Ravishing tales.

hello@luluwasamouse.com

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