Day In The Life of a Book

I might not believe in God per say but I believe in “something”. A little something that pushes the chess pieces of life around on the board, causes bizarre but important co-incidences, puts us in the right place at the right time and hides our car keys for a bit of light relief.

Christmas is a really important time for me, it is a time when I am allowed (albeit self-permission) to be five again. To gaze in wonder at christmas tree lights, to cry when I hear Away in a Manger and run around like a mad woman at 11.30 at night on Christmas Eve brandishing a sieve and a bag of flour creating Santa’s footprints in the “snow” on all our neighbour’s verandahs.

And occasionally, just occasionally a miracle happens.

This miracle’s chain of evens started 4 weeks ago at a business lunch at a french restaurant. Oh yes, didn’t I tell you, I caved and have gone back to work instead of being a unpublished writer. Yes, I know it shows weakness of my author spirit but tell that to those that caused the GFC. Anyway, lunch with important contacts and their boss who I had never met before.

So while we are contemplating our steak au poivre avec les pommes frites, question to “unpublished author” from business contact.

“How’s the book going ?”. I briefly contemplated lying, another five year old trait that suits me to avoid awkward responses. So against my better judgement I decided to ignore  my inner five year old and utter some part truths.

“I’m struggling to find an illustrator”. So to fully explain “struggling” means that my first illustator decided to get busy and I had been struck with inexplicable lack of action since then. “Don’t suppose you know anyone who can draw labradors” I joked as follow up.

Now this is where “the universe that provides” starts moving some planets, chess pieces and the set of keys.

“Actually I do” responses previously unencountered boss of said contacts.

I’m sure the silence lasted for hours, I was roused by the faint jingling of  car keys.

“Your kidding, right ?” But he was not, his next door neighbour who is studying art had drawn his two labs recently and a promise was made to send me a photo of the drawing.

Photo arrived the next day and I cried (unassisted by Away in a Manger). It was perfect – the random boss was instructed to give my details for the dog drawer.  And then silence, followed by assumption of no interest in the project, followed by further “struggling” to find illustrator.

On boxing day, while gazing at the light on my Christmas tree I was delivered my miracle. An email from the dog drawer who it seems is as excited as I am and could possibly be a kindred five year old at heart. The note was accompanied by some drawings – including one of an alsatian – and suddenly Ralph (Thunder & Lily’s best friend) came to life.

Thank you universe, I don’t know where this is going but I’m sure enjoying the journey. Now where are my keys ?

Today I got a smack in the face. A burning red one whose sting will last for a while I suspect. No it wasn’t a real smack in the face but the pain and subsequent wake up call felt very real. The virtual smack was delivered without knowledge by the mother of a disabled 8 year old boy who  I sat next to a 4 hour flight.

24 hours earlier I had been delivering some confronting news to my 8 year old’s self-confessed disciplinarian ballet teacher. My daughter had voted herself out of the class on the grounds of harshness of the teacher and I knew exactly what I was getting myself into in my effort to provide constructive feedback to the teacher.

Feedback is like a hand knitted cardigan that your mother sends you in the mail. Mostly they go straight into the bottom drawer and are never gazed upon again. Sometimes the said cardigan is paraded out when mother is in town, but secret gazes in the mirror remind us it is neither our colour nor our size. But feedback is never worn until it wears out.

Lots of denial followed by some disrespectful sharing of my conversation with others and the ballet teacher started to grow horns – or did I draw them on ? Anyway 3am I’m awake wondering if this will harm my child if the word gets around and what my next overly mature step might be with the she-devil.

The next day the potential resolution scenarios boil in my head all the way to the airport – to the point I can’t remember most of the route – I do remember driving past the ballet studio and wondering if I could get the car through the front door.

Anyway in my rage I’m now at the mercy of Qantas. This in itself often has a humbling effect on me – Qantas’ cardigan is a lovely rainbow wool with silver buttons. In the boarding queue that stretched almost to my destination city I find myself behind a family of 5 with an obviously disabled boy. I mentally cross myself and count multiple lucky stars. I spend an inappropriate amount of time looking at the boy and feeling pity for the family members who carry the burden of a disabled family member. Mum looks after him as Dad has been put of child wrangling duty with the other two. As I sit down I find myself next to mum and her boy. I’m in the window seat and spend quite a bit of time gazing downward at the sea wondering if ballet teachers float or sink.

I’m roused from my daydreaming by sweet words of love and care being exchanged between my neighbours. I look at the mothers face and she is smiling. Her son moves over so he can sit on her knee and they hug for what seems an eternity. They kiss and laugh.

SMACK !

This mother is clearly one of the luckiest women in the world, and she knows it ! She is lucky because through being challenged she has realised what is important and what is not. She has the love of a beautiful child and he has hers. The image of a ballet teacher in a straight jacket disappears with a magic “puff” in my head and I am left shameful.

I call my daughter when we land – just because I can. When I get home tomorrow we will dance together in the living room and praise that blessed ballet teacher.

You all know how I’ve been struggling (aka avoiding) with the last chapter of The Amazing Adventures of Thunder & Lily. I’ve been making lists of possible endings, listening to well meaning friends who told me the ending was obvious and generally sitting on the fence about bringing this issue to a head. Well it turns out I was looking for the wrong thing.

Sometimes you need to clear your head to let creative “stuff” happen. I’ve been running around deliberately making myself busy – late onset adult ADHD I fear. I’ve been creating my own self inflicted noise. Noise stops the important stuff happening. Whether it is focusing on what’s really important or letting our talent talk to us. I knew something was wrong as all the “well meaning” suggestions from friends made perfect sense. Sense yes, right no. I got used to this and accepted its inevitability.

So imagine my surprise as I sat on the deck at a friends cottage, with the only noise that of a calling Loon, when she came to me.

She is beautiful and she is right. The thought so compelling I think I held my breath, did the world stop for a moment ? A shiver, a silence, a glowing vision and a calmness that comes with inexplicable joy. Then the words cascaded from my head like a beautiful waterfall as I ran around trying to find a pen.

She was Dixie and she is in the middle not at the end. The end had already been written and I couldn’t see it. She is perfect in so many ways.

So why did I send so much time looking for the wrong thing in the wrong place ? Simply noise. You know it and I should have known it.

Clear your head so your own voice can talk to you and the answer will always be there.

Goodbye is hard enough to say far less write, especially when it might be for ever.

Today I found myself texting an old friend who will not be with us much longer to say goodbye. Our friend is to not talking but is taking messages of support. It felt completely inadequate and inappropriate.

Goodbyes are left gently on the cheeks of those leaving us, as we stand beside them. They should not be sent in character limited, harsh black and white that is heralded by an alarming “Beep, Beep” and accompanied by a flashing red light. It seemed cruel and unreflective of how important this person has been in my life.

And of course the word Goodbye can never be texted.

I should have written a letter, but that would have demanded a Goodbye and a recognition of the, what seems, inevitable. I couldn’t do it. Ironic really as this was the man who showed me how have guts and state my opinion fearlessly. Sorry I let you down.

Ridiculous really that the eulogy is always written and given when the person has already gone. We need to create living Eulogies to our friends and loved ones, telling them how important they have been to our lives and why they are so special and always while they are still here to feel our love, respect and fondness.

The important thing is to make change as a result of learning. I pledge to tell those that I admire why I care with an everyday living eulogy. And because I am who I am I will write it down.

I will leave you with the words of Paul Coelho

“Tears are words that need to be written”

Authors often feel alone, writing is a very solitary pursuit. What we don’t realise is there are millions of us “out there”.  Just because they are not sitting at our kitchen table sharing a cup of tea lamenting the decline of the use of proper punctuation, doesn’t mean we can’t feel part of a community.

The world has changed dramatically for those with tribal instincts over the last 10 years. You don’t have to venture out on a cold winter’s night anymore to seek the company of like minded individuals in public libraries. You don’t have to take the risk that in the group of 20 hastily convened authors you will be the only one that does not have psychopathic tendencies (although that might make a good plot in itself). The internet brings us thousands of resources, not quite as good at solving problems as a cup of tea, but hey you could combine both – surfing and chai !

I’ve been surfing and chai-ing myself recently working out how to find the perfect end to The Amazing Adventures of Thunder & Lily and found some fantastic sites.

So lets start with my absolute fav figment.com. A great authentic site that has heaps of opportunities to let your own writing be put out there and have lots of fellow budding authors review and help you. You can even invite your friends to come look at your work. They also have great pieces from published authors to provide inspiration.

Writing.com is also a great site, very like figment but has heaps more resources for challenges that we authors face and need some help on.

Another great place is TheReadingRoom.com which is a virtual book club. I’ve joined some of their groups and have found discussing great, and sometimes not so great, work helps in helping you solve your puzzle.

Post a note on this site if you have other sites that have helped you.

Happy chai-surfing !