Santa, Superman...and Me

I know I promised a blog on critique groups, and that will come. I was struck by something today that, at first thought, had nothing to do with writing. At second thought, it had everything to do with writing.

I went to the mall to browse and clear my head, relax before my very first book signing this evening. A woman sat on a bench by the fountain. In front of her, a little girl--three or so--danced, her sparkling red cape twirling behind her. She wore a blue Superman leotard with a bright red and yellow 'S' on her chest. Bright blue and gold boots completed the ensemble.

Now, it's a few weeks until Halloween, so it struck me as odd, then as delightful. It brought to mind the scene I witnessed last July at a Barnes & Noble cafe. A man wearing shorts and a tank top--appropriate for the eighty five degree heat--walked in with two young boys. The older, probably eight, was dressed much like his father. The younger boy, about four years of age, wore a bright red Santa suit, complete with heavy black boots and a red velvet hat. Sweat trickled down his pudgy cheeks, yet he seemed totally happy.

Today I'd been feeling less than anticipatory of my book signing, due mostly to the way life throws obstacles before us at times. Then I meditated on these two children--Santa Claus in July and Superman(woman) dancing in the mall in full costume two weeks before Halloween.

So, as I get gussied up to face the two, ten, or thirty (aren't I optimistic?) who come to the signing, inside I will draw upon Santa and Superman. For isn't that what our writing is about? It's about tapping into the possibilities in all of us, creating worlds, and people, and happy endings.

It's about being Superman on October 18 and Santa in July, and letting our readers believe it's possible for them, too.

Now, go, dress up and dance.

YOU MAY BE A WRITER IF...

…you spellcheck the grocery list, and you describe each item: plump tomatoes the red-orange hue of a western sunset;

…you have to read your email twice because, the first time, you focused on grammar and punctuation;

…you enter a bookstore with the same reverence as when you walk into church;

…you then stand over the ‘new arrivals’ table with much the same expression as someone gazing through the nursery window at the maternity ward;

…a friend is telling you about their most recent family tragedy, and you are simultaneously envisioning an opening paragraph;

…on your day off, you are still in your pj's and in front of the computer at three p.m.;

... and your UPS or FedEx delivery man begins to think you have a chronic illness;

…you have mastered the art of reading an agent's rejection letter while bearing an aloof smile;

…some of your family members ask, "So, how's that hobby of yours going?" followed by, "Any leads on a new job?"

…your Feng Shui book has gotten lost beneath the stacks of ‘how to’ writing books and manuscripts in the process of being edited. (Did I forget to mention the stack of rejection letters?);

…you carry a printed copy of your most recent work so that you'll have something to do while waiting in line—edit, edit, edit;

…you turn on the computer, just to check email, and, three hours later, you have an outline for your next masterpiece;

...you actually 'listen' to the people in your head and quote them.