Every day I check the mailbox with a little hope in my heart. Will today bring me a wonderful letter from a publisher? Will I be able to wave my letter in the air and hug my husband and my kids and say, "finally, I AM a WRITER!"
I locate my box number. I look at the sky, I want to remember what kind of a day it is - a nice Spring day, or a cold blustery wind - I turn the silver key, and find: a bill from the Bay, a Children's Hospital Lottery advertisement, and Dominoes Pizza coupons.
I turn to my family - they're waiting in the car, as we're on our way out for supper to celebrate my husband's book deal (he edited an education curriculum book) - my mouth is in a frown and I mock disappointment as I climb back in the vehicle.
"I wanted a book deal too!" I say in a put-on whiny voice.
Kieran says, "You know mom, if you don't get your book published, you can just print it out on our printer at home."
He is so sweet. They all are. I love my boys to the moon and back on a railroad track - to them, I already am a writer, I don't need a publisher to say that. God bless my kids, that's all I can say!
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