I didn’t plan to be an author.
While the idea of “publishing something” was enticing, there were always other things on the docket. I followed the life plan I developed as a 7 year old: become a teacher, get married (assuming the right fellow came along- otherwise I’d have dogs and cats,) and if we had children I’d be a stay-at-home mom.
The plan worked out better than such specific plans generally do. I loved teaching, married a great guy, and when we were ready for me to stay at home I kept busy with our house and three kids for a couple of years.
Then, our plumbing imploded.
Between waves of water, sewage, and repair men, it was an eventful year. Add into the mix the fact that our family of five was unable to use a third of our house’s space, do laundry, or flush for weeks, (thank God for my amazing friends who let us use their facilities as needed!) I became fairly desperate to leave the house.
Unfortunately, the waves of repairmen were not only frequent, but unpredictable. They came when they came, and I had to be available or risk the whole, sloppy process taking even longer.
If I wanted life to get back to normal, I was, effectively, trapped.
I had a story rattling around in my head ever since an interesting dream, (more on the genesis of all that later,) and a number of empty journals I’d gotten as gifts and always meant to use to record cute kid stories or my deep thoughts. (There was never enough time for the first, and never enough content worth recording for the second.)
I started writing. I filled one journal, then two. I realized that I needed to do research on the history side of the story and raided the library and internet. I emerged during the day to be a mom, a wife and a repair-supervisor, but I spent the kids’ naptimes and late nights far away.
Thank God for imagination. It kept me (reasonably) sane, and I ended the year with a novel on my laptop.
Well, I liked it. Maybe, maybe I could polish it up. Maybe even *gulp* sell it?
That’s the journey I’m on right now, and I’d love for you to come along.
Truth be told, I probably would never have embarked if it weren’t for all of the…well, you-know-what we went through that year.
My take-away: Blessings can even come from the most unexpected places (i.e. the sewer).