The Dream

 It was always my goal as a writer to get a literary agent and sell some books to a small publisher. That’s the dream I guess. So with all this writing I have been doing. I dipped into my picture book manuscripts to see if there was one I could throw out to agents to see if I got a bite. I polished a little story I love and sent it out to sea. 

I get a little driven. Okay, maybe obsessed is a better word. I’m like a dog with a bone. If I decide I want something I run through brick walls until I make it happen. This can be good. I know what I want and I go after it! Also it can be bad, I shut out everything and everyone, I drive towards my goal at all costs. That’s not how it should be. I love all my stories. Better still, my kids and family love my stories. Of course I want Odd Edgar and Lonely Potato to be out in the world. That’s the dream. But for now, in the rush of building all this new, raising the kids and looking ahead to what may be next for our family, I realize that taking the time to write and write again may actually be the dream. 


I’m sure I’ll get the urge to send out a little book, to watch it bob out into the unknown. But if it comes back to me alone in its little boat, I’ll bring it inside, wrap it in a warm blanket and tell it how proud I am, and how brave it was to even try.

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