Well, this starting back to school thing hadn’t started when I put so much on my calendar. Something had to give – art and writing. That should end in a few days.
Next story is tumbling around in my head as well. This is getting to be fun! Making notes and trying to figure out exactly what type of format this tale will be told.
Trial and error, that part of writing that seems to take the longest. Rough draft, edit and rewrite, those words have become routine. Something that several years ago were the scariest ideas ever.
Somewhere, somehow, someway the idea of writing had become this vision of sitting down and writing perfect prose at one sitting. This followed by a quick edit and a rewrite, give it a few days and then polish look through – DONE!
Um. WRONG! Sometimes it does work that way, but not always. That, in my mind meant that I wasn’t a writer, good or not. That has changed over the years.
Somethings take practice. They take work. They take time.
Promoting others is no problem. Networking for someone else’s benefit is fine. To do that same for myself, nearly impossible.
My current project has been to become comfortable speaking in public. Doing for myself things I wouldn’t think twice about doing for others – its tough! Recently, I got brave, really brave.
I asked my friends to share and tell others about my blogs, and book. To share as well the picture book in the works. I did the (up to now) impossible shocking thing of asking for help.
I asked for help promoting me and my work. Explaining that very little money has been spent on marketing. Nor do I plan on doing a lot of that for a little longer, if ever. Depending solely on word of mouth and referrals.
That has been very hard for me to do. I don’t want to be a nuisance to my friends, family — especially to those who already decided to follow and support me on their own. I owe them, you, the courtesy of not bombarding you with heavy sales tactics.
My work should be the best advertisement.
But if you feel like helping by sharing links, recommending my blogs and book, then by all means – please do so!
Since 1988, the beginning of August started off with waking children in the morning a few minutes sooner each day, and nudging them to bed earlier each night in preparation for the first day of school. This year, that won’t happen; a new annual routine will begin.
Shopping trips in search of shoes that fit after a summer of bare feet and flip-flops are a thing of the past. Those growing feet are off and on their own. Emotional discussions about winter coats and backpacks have ceased.
No more annoying piles of dirty laundry behind the bathroom door. The ‘Mom Patrol’ before leaving the house to ensure homework made it to a backpack; check lunches in hand are complete and dirty dishes have made their way to the sink made the final report the end of May. My load of responsibility has lightened, but my heart has gained some weight.
This is the year that makes being a grandma ever more precious. This is the year that all the first day of school stories will be relived vicariously over the Internet and text messages. This is the year, that the only one going back to school this autumn in this house is, me.
There are somethings in life we have the opportunity to do again. Some that we will never have that chance; we are stuck with our first attempt. My presentation of Snowball falls in the latter category.
I had very little confidence in my ability to tell/write a story for anyone to enjoy. To protect my tender ego, many of my own chosen words about the story and my writing came off negative. My regret and apology to myself and my granddaughter.
The story was and still is a labor of love. It was one in which I wanted my precious peanut to see what I saw in her – compassion, intelligence, curiosity, and problem solving. These are things that my granddaughter inspired me to try to write about.
Things every young ten to twelve year old girl should see in herself. Young girls should have a network of support, family, teachers and friends that encourages their interests. My granddaughter did it for me in accepting my gift of a story.
Now, I am honoring her generosity by accepting myself and my efforts. ( I have an awesome granddaughter!)