by Valerie Ipson
It's one of those things you try to hide. You don't tell your spouse or your sister or best friend. Even when the topic turns to goals and dreams, you don't mention it. You barely admit it to yourself. Your writing group is usually the first to know.
But I was at the dentist with children last week and the lady behind the desk I'll call Sandy, because that's her name, asked if I was still writing. (She knows I write for the Beehive). I said yes, and then I blurted, "I'm writing a novel." Because she asked, I then told her what it was about. This has been happening with more and more frequency over the last several months, so, yes, I've pretty much outed myself. I've told the universe that I am writing a novel.
This all started at the writer's retreat last July, when Joan Sowards happened by my little computer table, noticed the first chapter of my manuscript and asked to read it. I didn't know what to say, but yes, so she did and that led to me actually allowing others to read it--members of my writing chapter and even Kerry Blair, who, for the record, gave positive feedback. I went on to even allow my husband to read the first few chapters and I caught my 15-year-old son reading it off the computer the other night when he should have been in bed. Now it has become a not-so-far-out-there proposition. Mom's writing a novel and she wants to publish it. It could happen.
I like how it feels to be doing something I've wanted to do for a very long time (my story idea first came to me in 1997--at least my earliest notes on it are from that time period) and that people seem to be fine with it and are even supportive. (Check the acknowlegements when my book is published, you'll all be mentioned!)
Anyway, it's very freeing to just let it out. You should try it. I daresay the universe is waiting to hear from you!