The Thrills Of The Writing Life

The swoosh of warmth greets me as I step into the bookstore. I breathe in the delicious scent of paper and ink. For a long moment, my feet won't work. I'm frozen in the entrance and my gaze sweeps across the shelves of books.

"I can't believe it," I murmur to my husband. "My book is going to be on one of these shelves next fall."

His eyes light up. "Kids, your mom is going to be a famous author."

"Don't say that." But my smile widens.

The children are already dashing away, my husband's words hardly impressing them. They can't begin to grasp the significance of what it means have a lifelong dream come true, not when their own dreams are still just whispers.

I browse the fiction aisle, finger the glossy spines, reading the names of the authors--many who are no longer strangers. Some of them are now even friends. My heart speeds up with a thrill of excitement. Is it possible my book will brush covers with these in mere months?

I pull out the other Bethany House books and look at them with new eyes. How many times in the past had I stood in that exact spot and never thought to care about the various publishers. All that had ever mattered before was the cover and back blurb.

But now I browse with driving curiosity, fascinated to discover which authors belong to Zondervan and which ones are with Tyndale. Mostly I'm interested in who's in my Bethany House family. I feel connected to them in a strange new way.

I glance sideways at the other shoppers in my aisle. I wonder if they can read my satisfied smile. Does it announce to the world that I'm an author, that soon they'll take my book from the shelf? Even if they don't buy it, they'll touch it, hold it, and see a small piece of me.

Tears prick my eyes. I'm sure the other shoppers see me as nothing more than an overly emotional, somewhat strange mother of five noisy children. But the thrill of imagining my book on the shelf and in their hands is a gift--a reminder that all of those insecurities are worth it.

Yes, writers face insecurities. I shared mine in the last post. Thank you for sharing yours. Your honesty and openness touched me more than you can know. I'll treasure your words of encouragement far into the days to come.

The self-doubts are overwhelming at times. But if we cling to our dreams, if we give ourselves permission to imagine the thrills we'll feel when our dreams come true, then hopefully we'll find the determination to keep going against all odds.

What dreams do you cling to? Or what thrills have you experienced lately in your writing journey that have encouraged you to press on?

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