In his most earnest voice he asked, “Can I buy some-sing with my money I saved up from itunes?” My breath was caught on the beauty of his innocence. He had no idea what he was saying. With his handful of coins, some of which were mearly tokens leftover from a bowling alley birthday party a few months back, I immediately saw myself in the believing eyes of my three-year-old.

Yesterday, after I got home from the conference Phil announced we would be going to the Lego store. With three boys, that store is always a hit. Zachary ran off to his room and came back with those coins, his eyes dancing with excitement.

That is probably about what I looked like to the agents I met with at this writing conference. My writing was not nearly good enough to get me what I wanted from their store.

My son being three, I did not explain to him how little was in his hands. It is not the appropriate time for him to learn this lesson. What was important was that he brought what he had and believed he was contributing.

But I am no longer three and it was time from me to learn some of the harsh realities of the world of writing and where I might stand in it. And then I am left with a choice: do I take my tokens home and cry or to do I go back and work to get more in hope that next time I will have what it takes? Maybe a little of both.

Truthfully I am left with many more questions than that, but I will save those for another day. To sum up the conference, it was painfully invaluable in more ways than I could count. I am so very glad I went.

And thanks to my son, the sting has lifted a bit. I can see the beauty in coming with my handful of coins, even if it was not nearly enough.

14 thoughts on “invaluable

  1. Annette Correll says:

    You are eternally precious. Thank you for sharing your real self. That’s the mark of a great writer in my book.

  2. awwww, sooo sweet!! LOVE the analogy!

  3. psychevida says:

    Precious comparison!! Much continued luck in your continued existence of writer!!

  4. sharimc says:

    Totally relate to the “sting.” For the last several years I thought THIS would be my year, but alas, in one conversation w/ a “professional” I discovered it is not. I came to the table w/ little in my hands too just to discover I need to double the size of my book. Can’t give it up now since we have already invested so much, right?

    • itsakoolife says:

      Sharon – I so appreciated seeing you at the conference. I think the reason why we can’t give up has to do with the fact that we write to live and live to write and those characters in your head won’t leave you alone if you don’t get them out. I love that you write fiction. I am in awe of those who write fiction. I love that your book is so gritty. Hang in there! It’s nice to know someone along for this journey too!

  5. Diane says:

    Friend, I love what you wrote. I am sure looking forward to diving a little deeper into it with you. I love you, too!

  6. itsakoolife says:

    Thanks, Diane! Hopefully we will get to chat sometime soon! Love you!

  7. Such a beautiful post. I TOTALLY relate to the sting. It’s very hard to put ourselves out there and act with faith. Hoping that our hard work will pay off. I truly believe it will though…

  8. What a Beautiful picture of childlike faith. And actually, you both already have what it takes.

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