I have to admit, I’m not a big risk taker. I encourage everyone around me to take risks. I tell my students to pursue their dreams even if it means risking failure. Well, it’s time to follow my own advice. Over the last few years I’ve been engaging in some creeping risk taking of my own. I’ve been in the secure boat of teaching for a very long time. Cautiously I dabbled one toe into the waters of writing and publishing, then stuck in a whole foot when I moved to part- time teaching status. This year, well this year is the scariest thing of all; I’m taking a sabbatical, going overboard to write.

It’s become increasingly difficult to manage coordinating a gifted program, giving author talks and workshops, and finding time to squeeze in a little writing. I’ve got the third in the Wolfproof Trilogy to finish, and several other stories simmering in the background. Is it a wise decision financially? No, probably not. It’s scary. Giving up something I do well, to try something that is still a bit of an unknown makes me want to call for a life preserver. And in a way I have one. I still have the option to go back next year. And I”ll still be working with students–just not every day.

Timothy and Sarah have a conversation about following your dreams in Wolfproof:

“Then we should stick to wishing for impossible things,” Sarah laughed.

But Timothy wasn’t ready to relinquish the thought. “Maybe part of wishing is that it makes it easier to keep going.”

“What do you mean?”

“ It’s like when you hear a rumor about something. If you hear a rumor that there’s a hidden treasure in your yard, you’ll work harder to find it than if you just hope there is hidden treasure. Maybe our wishes are rumors of things we’re supposed to do.”