out of the ashes

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Thursday Morning

I feel kind of like one of my angels this morning. Anselm, maybe.
I soared upward yesterday on virgin wings, beyond the clouds to the very edge of the sky where the view is breathtaking; to that place so few men and women ever get to see with the naked eye. I saw thousands and thousands of stars and planets I'd never seen before; comets streaking everywhere. Inviting and hopeful. Having looked out at the wonder and beauty of it for awhile--smiling, taking deep breaths, pinching myself, I began the descent slowly. Not gazing down at the mountains and oceans and cities growing larger and larger with every passing moment, but back up at where I'd been. I know that I can return there someday and see the beauty of everything God created from that different and awe-filled vantage point again. All I have to do is believe and continue doing what I love to do.

I feel the earth at my feet, now. Softer today. Peaceful.

I "spoke" at length with the editor of SOTN yesterday afternoon and last evening. I was worried that my barrage of questions was taking her away from her duties. Reading the hundreds of queries and shorts that she must receive each day. She was very gracious, and told me a bit of the history of the magazine; a little about her place in it. I liked that. Although it's small, I think it's one of those little gems that will grow in stature as time goes on. Odd. I haven't yet read any of the back issues; haven't seen what the other authors write (but I will, soon). The thing that first struck me was the cover art. Beautiful. I googled the names of several of the contributors and was pleasantly surprised to see that many of them have excellent resumes of their writing, and multiple books published over the years--not at vanity presses! Legitimate places. Real writers. My apologies to any of you who self-publish. That's fine, it's just not how I want to do it.

I received many "Congratulations" emails yesterday! Gratifying, so gratifying. Trish sent me a neat little card--thanks! Pammy smiled when I walked in the door. I think she was proud of me. She asked so many interesting questions.
Cherilyn was overjoyed!
I didn't work on my book last night, savoring the moment. Well, yes I did. I removed a comma from one of the sentences in Chapter Seven that I'd placed there the day before :) Tonight I get back to work, glancing up again at the sky, between the commas. Very thankful I'm even able to imagine.

Imagination was the last. Perplexing. The only thing he could imagine was feeling the touch of Amy’s fingers on his cheek, and her eyes fixed longingly on his.
“You’re cruel, whatever you are. Where’s the word Impossible?” he moaned.
The tree responded in a lowing voice. “There is no such word in my branches. Go, now. Understand what you’ve been given. Never lose sight of it. Find her.”
“I don’t understand! What do they mean? How will they make her love me?”
“Use the last word first. Go.”
And so, Marvin did. He turned and began his journey up the hill with two words in his hands, the other tucked into his grimy shirt next to his heart. He gazed down at Imagination for many steps. At length, at a loss as to how it could possibly figure into his dilemma, he did the one thing he nor anyone else in the world could ever have imagined he would do. He looked up into the teal sky and said, “Dear God, help me.”

Off to work.

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