Everything is Beautiful - Monday 12/8/2008

In it's own way.

Come on, sing it!

I was feeling upbeat when I parked my car at Trader Joe's and went in to pick up supplies for tonight's writing group.

Had a nice conversation with a guy behind me in the cashier's line. He had a couple of boxes of frozen mini-tacos. I had a mushroom-filled version of spanikopita, some little Thai chicken egg rolls, chicken chili verde, Thai jasmine rice and a couple of cheeses.

He said the mini-tacos are great. He loves them, his partner loves them, and his 90-year-old father who is living with them now loves them. "If he likes them, anyone will!"

I told him that I'm auditioning appetizers for Christmas Day and that I have a captive audience tonight.

He asked what I do, and I told him I'm a researcher for television and movies. Then realized, he meant in the context of the captive audience.

"It's for my writing group. We're all novelists." I told him.

"Well, good luck," he said, when I wheeled my cart away.

I told Braveheart about the exchange later. I've been feeling a bit depressed about my prospects for publishing for a long time, and it was amazing to claim my writing persona again. Not just verbally. I really felt it.

Braveheart raised a glass to me in her kitchen, "You are a f***ing novelist."

"You're a f***ing novelist!" I said, clinking glasses.

"We're f***ing novelists!"

I'm back at work on a project that came so close that it broke my heart when it didn't sell. I always thought that if I just had a shot, I could make it happen. It didn't work the first time, but that's okay.

Braveheart gave me an assignment about six months ago, and she and Tomasina were so supportive of the work, that it helped get me back on my feet.

I'm going to let myself feel a little proud that through many months of feeling utterly hopeless about my ability to achieve anything with my writing, I kept at it. I wrote this blog, I wrote another novel, and a couple of things that were published, and pages and pages on the assignment Braveheart gave me.

It's all we can ask of ourselves and others: to keep going. It's probably the best medicine this side of laughter.