The Story of a Boy

One day, 18 years or so ago, a little boy wandered into my life via my womb. He proceeded to charm me and frustrate me like only a boy can do. All running, climbing, going, doing, moving. All boy. All the time. I watched him grow, the way boys do - into and out of their clothes and limbs (with far less grace than his sister but with far less drama, I might add.)
One day, just 24 hours ago, he wandered off to college. There he'll surely charm and frustrate his professors like only a young man can do.
What's that they say about things that happen in the blink of an eye? I'll tell you what happens...your tiny babies tower over you. They go, and do, and move in the exact opposite direction of you. It's how it's meant to be. In this tale which is the same as so many others written by parents whose kids aren't really kids anymore.
Let's face it. Mothers grow people.
And so it goes - in this story of a little boy.

Dreams et al

I was deeply saddened recently to hear a tale of a fellow writer who after the very long, very arduous task of completing a manuscript and then (even more arduously) securing a contract with a literary agent, proceeded to pass away within a week of the latter. I'm not sure what it was about this news that struck me so. I didn't know her personally. Hadn't even really followed her story up until then. And yet. The very notion of somebody who had clawed, scratched and climbed her way out of a thought in her head and made it all the way to her goal only to have it all come crashing down around her in such a finite manner - well it's disturbing. To say the least.
It made me think about the lengths we go to when our dreams lay waiting. It made me frightened. It reminded me that life makes no promises and that we presume there's always time. We presume bad things happen to the other guy. We whisper, "There but for the grace of God go I."
And we live our dreams with blind faith. Presuming. Imagining the best, fearlessly.
Until a sad tale presents itself and then...
I'll speak only for myself. I pause and say a prayer. Keep your dreams close and your blessings closer.

Write, Love, Play (in that order)

Later this month the movie premiere of Elizabeth Gilbert's novel "Eat, Pray, Love" will hit the big screen. Fans of this tale as well as fans of Julia Roberts will no doubt flock to the theater in droves to pay homage to their cause.

Okay - I'll fess up. Haven't read it yet. Not for lack of interest so much as lack of time. My book shelf is overflowing with current reads, next-on-deck reads and those I really want to get to but wonder when/how I'll manage to find the hours. Anyway if the reviews are to be believed, Ms. Gilbert has a hit on her hands. The latest news reports that some readers have taken to physically duplicating the excursions that transpire over the course of the book, specifically treks to Italy, India and Indonesia.

As a writer, I'm impressed. What does it say about your skills as an author when people enjoy your work to such a dramatic extent? To me, it says, "Girl keep writing. Find an audience and do not let them down."

Since the moment I became obsessed (possessed?) with the novels inside of me, I have had to readjust my priorities. Writing HAD to take top billing. Not mandatory. Not a hard and fast rule as much as a natural course of things. It's how you know you're hooked (no pun or reference to blog name intended.) When you're desire outweighs the little things like, oh I don't know - eating, sleeping...stuff like that.

Congrats to Ms. Gilbert on her success. But I digress. I have work-in-progress to edit. And many, many books to read.