I am still plagued by the dream I had last night. I am writing a short story based on it. I hope it turns out as compelling and real as it was to me in my unconcious, happy time!
My sweet 4 month old was not interested in sleeping this afternon, so we watched the finches out the front window. There are about 200 out there, divebombing the two small bird feeders for some black seed. I poured seed on the ground and threw it all over the lawn so there was plenty even for the squirrels. It is entertaining and relaxing watching their antics. There is plenty of food, yet they fight for a little one-inch perch anyway... silly finches.
So, I was looking out the window, and I am feeling just like a big loser. I finished my novel last week. It was April 3rd, 2013 at around 3:48 in the afternoon. I was so excited to finish. I envisioned my succes. I envisioned being picked up by an agent... someone who would be so excited to represent me. But, looking out the window at my small South Dakota town street, I am feeling like crap! Who am I? How can I make this happen? How can I turn this into a career? Will it ever be real for me? Is anyone else out there feeling like this?
I grew up in a town with 700 others. There was a small, manmade lake near my home. I was nobody, living in nobody-ville. Who am I now?
I am a writer....
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