That following the dream is far more enjoyable in the right season. As I sit here watching a menagerie of squirrels, birds, and lizards haunt my patio garden replete with potted splashes of color through our French doors, I’ve never been more at peace. I won’t say, “I’ve never been happier” because that emotion relies on events beyond my control. I also won’t say my critters are captive even if it feels that way due to the massive white vinyl fences encasing my backyard on two sides. I will say, however, that my little friends are lured to my abode thanks to the corn cobs and bird feeders hanging from the massive oak tree shading my concrete patio.
I’m sure by this time you’re wondering what any of that has to do with writing. On the surface, nothing. In reality, everything. I have an office area set up in my bedroom filled with a nice desk and lots of book shelves filled with actual books. It’s a nice comfy space with a nice comfy roller chair and window blinds I can open to let in the bright Florida sunshine. Sounds perfect, right? Then why am I sitting at the dining room table with my laptop in an old chair that makes my butt hurt? Because I’m stupid? Maybe.
Or it might because the scene right outside my door inspires me and reminds me how much I’m enjoying creating my universes in ways I never have. I wrote my first “book” when I was maybe three. I still remember sitting on the dining room floor against the wall with my crayons and my pad writing this elaborate tale about a bear. A half century later, I don’t recall the specifics. I just know it was something else because all of my stories back then were dramatic as only a toddler can make them.
My next foray into writing was in Middle School. I started novels I never finished but I read voraciously. As my safe, happy universe morphed into one of secret abuse, reading and writing were my only escapes. I wrote my first two plays when I was fifteen. One was performed in church and the other was submitted to a Drama Competition. I finished writing and illustrating my first children’s book at around sixteen. My Mom convinced me to show my masterpiece to a local children’s book author she’d worked with at the college. I think she thought he’d encourage me.
This man took one look at my work and laughed in my face. He told me my work was garbage and it would never get published. It didn’t matter I made an acquaintance who saw my work and offered to agent my book the next year. She had big plans that were quite ambitious and the contacts to make it happen. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. I didn’t take her up on her offer because I didn’t believe my tale was good enough. For a number of years, that became the main theme in my life.
Over the next eight years I dabbled in writing. I finished my first 150,000 word historical novel and a shorter 70,000 word romantic suspense when I was 26. I’ve already discussed my misses in publishing in past blogs, so I won’t go there again. I will recap by saying I’ve had a few opportunities with both agents and major publishing houses over the years. They all came at wrong moments of unexpected turmoil and trauma when I knew I wouldn’t be able to honor any contracts I signed. Since that time, writing has been very off-and-on for me largely dependent on my state of mind. Well, I’m in a good place now with ample time on my hands to pursue my passion.
As I sit here at my dining table watching a squirrel decimate a two pound bird seed cake, I’m bringing this blog to a close so I can go back to editing the contemporary romance I plan to submit to a major publishing house in the next week. Whether they accept my offering or not is irrelevant. How much they’re willing to pay if they do is something I’ll contemplate before signing. Either way, I have other viable options and the time to pursue them.
What matters in this moment is I’m pursuing my dream with the belief it will come true because I’m finally in the right season of my life to follow through to the end.
Until next time,
Calla
P.S. For the foreseeable future I’ll be sharing my adventures in writing.
Tori Lennox Author 