A couple of years ago I wrote a novel…..then I put it away. I thought about it often, but wasn’t sure how to go forward. A year passed and my doubts about it increased. One day it seemed like I had an answer: Ask someone to read it. Not for editing purposes; spelling or grammar (I knew that it needed a ton of work) but for the story. I wanted to know if it was compelling ….or not. I had a feeling that the right person/people would present themselves and I’d know it. What I didn’t know was that this person wouldn’t show up for another year.
We’d run into each other at a party, the subject of writing came up, and I talked to him about my book. When he said that he’d be happy to take a look at it, I knew to say yes. I sent him the first 30 pages, and he asked for more. Then a week passed. Then 10 days. After a couple of weeks I ran into him at another party, but he didn’t mention my writing.
I had a sinking feeling and thought, “He doesn’t like it and doesn’t know how to tell me. I’ve put him in such an awkward position.” As I drove home my next thoughts were, “Well, at least I know. I’m still happy that I wrote it. It was important for me to do.”
And it was important, even if it was never read by another person, I was so grateful that I had done it. I loved Maggie, the heroine of the story, felt like she was a part of me, and even though I could see her imperfections, doubts, troubles, and mistakes, thinking about her gave me courage.
A couple of days later this email came from my friend, “I’m on page 100 of your book, and I’m hooked!”
I stared in disbelief at his words. That was August 8th of this year.
Then something truly amazing started to happen; I began to notice that similar events (to the ones happening with Maggie) were occurring in my life. This past Tuesday, October 29th, I was given a gift. Although I can’t speak about it specifically, it is a significant item; very beautiful, valuable and old. It took me completely by surprise. As I was running on Thursday morning, I was hit by a revelation, “Maggie (the heroine of my book) was given this exact gift at the end of the story.” The person who gave me the gift knew nothing about Maggie or my writing.
The book I’ve written is about our ability to change our own lives. It is about the realization that the courses of our lives are not fixed things; destined to be lived out as limited, pre-determined, unhappy, scripts. Some people would call what I’ve written a fantasy, since elements of it have the fantastic, the magical, the wonderous, and the impossible, woven throughout. Yet the events in my life, two years after writing this book, have a stunning parallel to the main character’s journey.
I wrote a book about the magic of life and it is teaching me about the magic of life; that it is never too late to begin again, and that nothing is impossible.
“Fiction is to the grown man what play is to the child; it is there that he changes the atmosphere and tenor of his life.” Robert Louis Stevenson