The first star of the night, the Wishing Star, always hears the same wish from me: I want to see my books on (and flying off) bookstore shelves. I've been writing since I opened my first diary in fourth grade and wrote about how clearly I could see the world once I got my new glasses. Now I'm waiting anxiously for my new prescription to be filled, but there must be some sort of hold-up with the optometrist!
See, here's the thing. I want to be a published writer. I want my students to read my books. I want to tell the stories screaming to come out of my story-telling head.
I must not be ready -- this is what makes the wait okay.
I believe I will not become a published author until I am ready to move from the wanna-be ranks. But the road out of the depths of wish-dom is long and hard and no one has made a road map. Or have they? Is there some magic spell that will speed me through the steps? Will I wave that magic wand? Last night a writer friend dedicated a book to me, saying she hopes that dedication helps my wish come true sooner. Will it? Should it?
That's the question. If I wave that magic wand, what lesson will I have missed? Skipping a step in the process may mean the difference between a minor mistake and a crucial error. If I am not ready to succeed, will I be unprepared for the masses of critics that flock around all new writers? If I am not full of unsinkable self-esteem, will a child's question destroy my muse?
Maybe my last lesson could be solved by a simple set of bifocals. Maybe by skipping a step I will forever be squinting.
I think I have learned enough to understand that I have very loving and patient guardians watching over my dreams. I don't receive a gift for which I am not ready to fight, and I have been very lucky so far. But have I fought enough? Has my name flooded enough agent's offices and publisher's desks? I wonder. That part is not going to be done with magic or wishes. That part is my job. I think I still have some work to do toward my dream.
See, here's the thing. I want to be a published writer. I want my students to read my books. I want to tell the stories screaming to come out of my story-telling head.
I must not be ready -- this is what makes the wait okay.I believe I will not become a published author until I am ready to move from the wanna-be ranks. But the road out of the depths of wish-dom is long and hard and no one has made a road map. Or have they? Is there some magic spell that will speed me through the steps? Will I wave that magic wand? Last night a writer friend dedicated a book to me, saying she hopes that dedication helps my wish come true sooner. Will it? Should it?
That's the question. If I wave that magic wand, what lesson will I have missed? Skipping a step in the process may mean the difference between a minor mistake and a crucial error. If I am not ready to succeed, will I be unprepared for the masses of critics that flock around all new writers? If I am not full of unsinkable self-esteem, will a child's question destroy my muse?
Maybe my last lesson could be solved by a simple set of bifocals. Maybe by skipping a step I will forever be squinting.
I think I have learned enough to understand that I have very loving and patient guardians watching over my dreams. I don't receive a gift for which I am not ready to fight, and I have been very lucky so far. But have I fought enough? Has my name flooded enough agent's offices and publisher's desks? I wonder. That part is not going to be done with magic or wishes. That part is my job. I think I still have some work to do toward my dream.
And yet, I wonder if I am being confused by the illusion of a world that doesn't exist. Are my "publication dreams" merely a way to sway me against something much better that will Be.
So, that being said, I must remember that I have volunteered to wait. If this dream I have is meant to be, it's only being human that makes me impatient. My wishing star is not ignoring me. She is waiting for the right wish. I just need to have a little more faith ... and maybe a little pixie dust.
So, that being said, I must remember that I have volunteered to wait. If this dream I have is meant to be, it's only being human that makes me impatient. My wishing star is not ignoring me. She is waiting for the right wish. I just need to have a little more faith ... and maybe a little pixie dust.
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