The Real Thing

We may be looking for our deliverance, but it is already been sent...
-- Emily Saliers

Yesterday I finished a load of assingments, AND the rough draft of this newest novel.
There is still so much left to be done, but... one day, one hour, one week at a time.

I saw an atrocious French film yesterday. The best part was the incest scene between the
brother and sister. No, I’m not joking. Anyway, it’s about this young, rich, jaded author
who writes a book that is an instant success and... in short, an author who is not me, but
who I thought I wished I was. So I don’t want instant success? What exactly is it that I
want? Often we forfeit our power by turning away from this question, but it’s a good one.
This morning, on the full moon, I lay in bed meditating and said what I had not said in a
few weeks, “What do you want?” I have not asked myself this. Maybe because I’m afraid
that the universe will tell me I’m too ambitious. But there is a pwoer in our desire, and
jsut to open your mouth and form the phrase of your desire is to conceive.
As a writer I would prefer to last a long time than to be famous today. This first
book has taken forever just to get an e-version of it. I shake my head over what it will be
like putting it into paper. Bree, if you are reading, I need to drop you an e-mail to say do
not proof chapter four. Helen, you have been a faithful, faithful editor. Photographers for
the cover shot....? Not so faithful. I’ve had two, we’ll be making due without the
photograph. And author wants to have the perfect book, but the truth is that between the
perfect book in your mind, and the real thing you can put out, the real things is almost
always better.