There on the hillside
A puddle of brilliant light
Sun broken through clouds
ten years ago
dream in pocket
breathless
learning to pitch a book
awed by everyone
talent
knowledge.
Wishing.
Today, I pull a bin
to my own author table.
I am awed at everything.
It’s just ten years.
Same space I pitched!
Now,
ten books to spread
for this event.
My words searching for homes.
A blink of time
those dreams
are truth.
.
.
I just realized that this month is the 10th anniversary of my first writing conference. I bravely registered for one day of the Surrey International Writers’ Conference, took my husband and our exchange student to Vancouver. While they spent a day exploring, I pitched my first book to the publisher who would eventually offer me a contract for it and had my first blue pencil with a professional author (Meg Tilley). Ten years later, I’ve been invited to sell at a Guest Author table, in the very same room I pitched in, and I will have ten books on my table to sell and sign. How astonishing. How quickly a decade passes! How amazing to see what happens when you take the risk!
I keep checking the email
Certain I’ve missed notification.
Maybe it’s time to accept
I missed the mark. Vexation.
Always the bridesmaid, never the bride
is better than missing the celebration.
When you’re sure this is the one,
anticipation’s crushed by negation.
You can make things come true
when you believe them hard enough,
declare them to the universe
visualize the outcome
make it so
make it so
make it so.
Unless everyone in view
is believing, declaring, and visualizing, too
and there’s only room for one of you.
Yeah, that’s hard stuff
it could be worse
Don’t be glum.
Let it go
let it go
let it go.
Her eyes!
She watched Ignorance enter the room.
No obsequious sycophantry in her glare.
How naked are the emperor
and his bloated toadies
under her perspicacious gaze.
Small victory
multiplied.
Big tasks
divided
into
parts
so
small–
how could I not succeed?
Deadlines
focus goals.
Day by day,
Chew each bite thoroughly.
Done!
Launch hope with a key stroke.
Completion is victory enough,
but still…
Fingers crossed.
You drive away after a visit.
“He got his licence back!”
“That’s great for 101!”
“No! He’s 105 now!”
“and blind!”
Oh, dad.
Thanks for stopping by
to make me laugh
in dreams.