A friend just came back from New York City, full of the energizing feeling of walking the streets and working on Broadway. I sometimes dream of that day when I will be walking the streets there, too. Specifically, wearing red stilettos and a strikingly red power suit, pulling open some great glass door to a magnificent highrise where my dream agent will be waiting for me with a glass of champagne and a contract.
Hey, if I'm going to dream big, I might as well dream in specifics. Some writers visualize the book cover, the signings, their name on the top of the best seller list. For me, it's all about the journey. I used to dream of sitting down each day, a cup of coffee next to me and my computer on my lap, and writing blissfully hour after hour. So this year, after tossing my youngest one out into the scary world of public education, I am living the dream. I'm all hopped up on caffeine, two letters have completely worn off my keyboard, and I am obsessing over rewrites and queries. It's time for a new dream. So stilettos, a power suit, and a New York agent are it.
It may be a long way off, and maybe it will never be anything but a dream, but still I allow myself to go there in my head every now and then, because seeing it so vividly gives me hope to keep writing, even when the journey seems hard.
And because, in the dreams, my legs look awesome in stilettos!
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