For the past few months I have been putting together a book dummy to send to publishers. If you know me personally you know this, because I talk of little else, since it's what I've been doing day in and day out. I've been scrambling words and pictures together mostly in my little apricot room, with my fluffy cat pawing at my legs or jumping on my lap to "help" me get the job done. When I decided to go on this rather risky enterprise, putting all other forms of job hunting to rest, I tried to fend off all of the anxious feelings welling up inside me; so many things could go wrong. I could end up feeling completely isolated, lonely, and creating something that I would be bored with by the second week.
For the past few years I've had a two major stories rolling around in my head, one about the early life about John Paul II, the other a rewrite of a Russian fairytale with fantastic characters flitting in and out of an ordinary girl's life. I knew that the fairytale had more public appeal, and might pay more than the former. Friends and family both pushed me to write the story of John Paul II, but I had a little more conversing with God before I went for it. I decided that if I was about to launch a career of personal work writing a story about a saint I dearly love would prepare me in a real way to live and draw for God, and be at his complete mercy when it came to trying to publish my first book. And whether it gets published remains to be seen, but more than the joy of putting this all together I have received double the gifts than I thought I would by going with my gut and writing the story of a little Polish boy who would one day be a great Pontiff. For one, as I read books about his life I couldn't help but feel completely overwhelmed and constantly inspired, so much so that sometimes I had to stop between pages and pray. Then when I began to write, my entire family wanted to pitch in and help and edit, and even friends of mine took up my amateur phrases and helped me make something I think is lovely, but even lovelier for all the love that went into it. Family and friends, continue to be present and attentive to my next crazy email when I can't decide between a purple color scheme or a slightly more blue, but still quite purple one.
Sometimes I get anxious, and I have to turn back to prayer and ask Blessed Pope John Paul if he likes it and God my Father to bless it. This time has really been a time of love and even though I will be disappointed if it never gets published, I don't think one moment was ill spent on this project. And thanks be to Heaven, I'm still so far from bored, it's ridiculous. I'm just about to draw out of the cover, the finishing touch to the pitch, and then it will be a whole other game as I knock on publishers doors. This time has made me realize how truly blessed I am in this little apricot room with my fluffy cat and my crucifix hanging above my bed.
