Outside my window the world is white. It’s been snowing all night and the limbs of our trees are thickly furred. It’s a new season for me. Over the next few months the Peculiars will make its way into the world. At this point the book is out of my hands and readers will have their say. I alternate between terror and reflection.
Some words from the reflection side. Francisco Stork wrote in his wonderful “A Letter to a Young Author” that “The world’s great need will be met when you write the one novel you came into this world to write. It is the one that scares you the most, the one you think no one will publish and if it is published then no one will read and if it is read then no one will understand, except perhaps another soul like yours.”
If you haven’t read his YA novels, you should.
Vocation is a heavy word. It implies more than getting up each day and putting your hours in. It implies calling, something you are meant to do. Sometimes it seems silly to spend my time crafting words. After all, it’s arguably not as important as many jobs. But I believe it is important to do the thing you are gifted for well and to find joy in it. It’s work and it still means showing up each day even if your only companion is the empty page. And if in the end it touches someone’s life, that’s grace.
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