November | 2018 | Welcome to Frog on a Dime

I am thankful for Urban Dictionary. You have saved me from a galaxy of embarrassment.
I am thankful for librarians. So long as there are people who devote themselves to the tender loving care of books and protecting our access to information, I feel like we’ve got a reasonable chance at a smart and civil society.
I am thankful for friends who lie. There is absolutely no way that I can be as amusing and fabulous as you say I am. But I love you for saying it just the same.
I am thankful for the opportunity to revise. If only life always gave us that option.
I am thankful for the times I’m too naive to know I’m in over my head. It gives me the will to try things–like writing a novel–that would otherwise scare the Nutella out of me, if I knew better.
I am thankful for characters who will put up with me long enough to tell their stories. I am a literary glacier.
I am thankful for chances to present at schools and spend time with curious, inner-critic-less kids who love to read their stories to anyone with ears.
I am thankful for technology. I cannot imagine going back to a typewriter or pad and pen or quill and ink. It’s lovely to have those options, and I have friends who do, but how could I ever give up my darlings Find & Replace or the beloved Undo button. [Chills!]
I am thankful for hot tea. Steamy black tea with cream soothes my angsties and makes me sit to write at least long enough to enjoy the whole cup.
MOST MOST MOST of all, I am thankful for YOU. It’s a strain to imagine now, but there was a time when I didn’t know another soul who wanted to be a writer, much less, one who loves to write for children and is as sweet-sassy-magical as you, my little pumpkin tart!

Rest and be thankful. ~ William Wordsworth

Illustration by Matt Faulkner

I am participating in a writing contest—You Are Enough—hosted by Positive Writer. The aim of the contest is to draft a blog post that will provide encouragement to fellow writers. Well, if you’ve ever visited Frog on a Dime, you know that’s what my hokey-pokey blog is all about. Regardless if I win, I hope this post energizes your creative spirit. (And that you find cookies in your cupboard.)

My husband likes to watch Prospectors on the Weather Channel. Prospectors follows real, modern-day diggers of gold and gem stones. I like The Voice, a reality show/singing competition. Recently, I recognized the two shows intersect.

Prospectors endure extreme cold, looming storm fronts and other dangerous conditions to find the prize—a smoky topaz, a ruby, an aquamarine or even gold. Judges on The Voice listen to some lackluster auditions while searching for someone with golden pipes. So, the singers and the smoky topaz are treasures. That’s the obvious comparison, but there’s something more.

Were the stones beautiful while still encased in layers of limestone? I would say, yes. It wasn’t the touch of a prospector’s pick or palm that made them precious. And what about the hopefuls who appear on The Voice? It’s certainly not the judge’s ears or their feedback that make those singers amazing. The vocalists were outstanding before they ever walked on stage.

Here’s what I want you to know, my fragile little tea cups—you and your writing have intrinsic value before you receive a single word of praise. Think of all of the painters and poets who never received acclaim during their lifetimes. How sad to think they thought of themselves as “almosts” and even failures. You don’t need to have your name on a dust jacket to be a writer of worth. Interested editors or agents are simply recognizing what’s already there—like a prospector uncovering a lump of turquoise or a judge discovering a brilliant performer. Okay, okay, you make a good point. Like the unearthed gemstones or a singer’s vocal range, your work (and gosh, yes, mine) could benefit from a good polishing to bring out its true luster. But just because something can be improved doesn’t mean it wasn’t extraordinary to begin with.

Yes, I can hear the b-b-b-BUT coming. But I waaaaant an agent to love my work. I waaaant an editor to offer me a contract. I waaaaant readers to send me fan mail. Of course you do (and so do I). That kind of validation is wonderful, but remember–your work isn’t valued because it’s recognized. It’s recognized because it’s valuable–regardless. And first and foremost, you have to recognize that for yourself, my little lemon square.

After nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world. ~ Philip Pullman