Saturday, October 3, 2009

The Author Mom

I found it difficult to decide whether to post this in my Mommy blog or my Author blog, since it has to do with both writing and my family—so you win. Lucky you.

My kids impress me. I don’t take any credit for this. It would be awkward, and snooty, and I just don’t feel up to it. But they’re impressive.

For instance, two years ago I decided to start taking myself seriously as an author and work toward publication. You know, I stopped fighting the inevitable and accepted something that nearly consumed every waking thought needed attention. This had a profound effect on my kids, and in ways I never considered.

When I got my first publishing contract (that has since dissolved, don’t worry about why) in 2007 one of the first things we did was tell the kids. The next morning, my oldest looks at me and says, “Mommy, what if you become famous?” My stomach did a little flip but I calmly responded, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

A few months later, one of the twins abruptly asked, “Mommy, are you an author?” I said yes, and the smile that lit up his face brought tears to my eyes.

My daughter, Kylie, tells everyone she’s going to be an author like me. But it’s not the gratuitous adoration that I’m talking about here.

When I chose to pursue my dream, my kids noticed. And they’ve been taking notes.
Currently, my oldest is working on a time machine. The twins are doing their normal things—drawing, writing, creating in general, exploring, taking care of bugs, obsessing over nature in its most minute form.

My fledgling author is still at it, plugging away weekly at her craft and coming up with some pretty interesting ideas. She even has her mother’s author insecurities. Sigh. Didn’t mean to pass that on.

The youngest is continuing her love of words. Now she’s started writing, sounding out words and spelling most of them herself.

Because they’re my kids, they’re convinced my book will be known all over the world and likely be made into a movie. But what happens with the book isn’t important. The fact that my kids consider pursuing their dreams to be cool is worth every bump in the road and setback I face.

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