Something Wonderful

In August I learned that my editor would be on sabbatical until the new year and publication of my forthcoming verse novel had been postponed until spring. Also postponed was the publication of a handcrafted pamphlet to be printed by a small but creative press. Small presses have limited staff and unexpected situations often affect the production schedule. I was disappointed by the delays, but the lull in publication seemed a perfect time to revamp my website. Unfortunately, revamping a website is not as easy as I thought it would be. A feeling of futility quickly took hold and did not alleviate the void I sometimes feel when not researching or writing. 

I've written about this before— when something I've been working on for so long is finally book-bound, I experience an emptiness that borders on loneliness.  Characters who have become so real, who have risen with me and accompanied me throughout my days are suddenly silent. With my mind echoless and emptied of what ifs, I suddenly feel friendless and alone. I'm not sure all writers experience this, but I do. 

Before beginning another project, I organize my notes— I file the unused thoughts, collect the excised words and quietly go about my day wondering what I'll write next or even if they'll be a next. What if no characters come to call? What if I remain in this soundless gray cave forever, with only a lackluster website to keep me company? 

Then something wonderful happens. Something exquisite. Something quietly extraordinary.  A small platinum pin drops in a dark, silent cave. I see the slim spark, hear a silvery ping and happily spend my days searching to find that sliver of light, straining to hear his or her shy voice emerge from the shadows. 

The path to publication is often filled with delays and disappointments, but today I heard a platinum ping. I pulled out a clean notepad and sharpened pencil. Updated pictures and fancy fonts will have to wait— there is something I need to find out first— someone I need to know. 

I look forward to working with my editor again. Hopefully, next year will bring more childhood dreams sitting on a shelf, and more opportunities to talk with students, librarians and teachers.  But being a writer is not about being published. It isn't about a dazzling website with updated pictures and fancy fonts. Being a writer is writing and something wonderful happens when a platinum pin falls in a darkened cave and I hold my breath searching for the story.