I like flowers and sunny days, tea with cookies and pretty music,and moonlight that falls through the cracks in the window blinds. I LIKE a lot of things … but there’s one thing I don’t like right now: An obsessed me.

For the next 10 days I will take a rest. To clear my soul and mind from all the clutter, from the WORDS, from the waiting, hoping, dreaming, wanting …

This is a good thing.

I revise in my dreams. Really. It’s true. After spending the day writing and rewriting, my one eye began to twitch. I think it’s eye strain or possibly just nerves. I’m not sure. But the night that I actually saw my manuscript in my dream, the words moving about on the pages by the will of my thoughts … well, it has happened.

I AM FINALLY, REALLY, A WRITER!

Because my favorite mantra that I quote in my head all day long is: If you can DREAM it … then you can live it.

Okay, I dreamt it. I’m ready now …

Driving down the street it looks like a monstrous giant had an enormous pillow fight and all the white down is floating everywhere. It’s the cottonwood trees of course.

Where was I driving? To the post office to mail sample chapters to an agent who requested them. Yes, I was going to “give up” on this whole business of writing, but as soon as I felt defeat … I forced myself to query five more agents.

If only I were smart enough to give up … but I’m just not that smart.

So it seems.

No! This is NOT fun. Took my son to school and came home to a pile of laundry to fold, budget to reconcile, and dishes to wash but … that’s just a typical Monday. Right? The NOT FUN part is what popped up on my email while I flurried around the house.

A REJECTION.

Though it was a kind rejection and I appreciate that. Adam’s Literary wrote and I quote, “…it is all to often the case that we must turn away many talented individuals. The decision to accept a new client is one we take seriously, as we must be wholeheartedly committed to and enthusiastic about each and every project we represent.”

I want to give up.

NO. It’s not that I got a book contract or an offer for representation, though that’d be entirely lovely. Wouldn’t it? This is something else.

My friend Anya and her son Cole were having breakfast with my son and I last Saturday at this local eatery, when we had this very interesting discussion:

The boys were talking about what they want to be when they “grow up,” (ages 8 and 5). Cole wants to be a “space police officer.”

The whole conversation turned to current events as Virgin Galactic is in the process of producing space flights for civilians. Many big name movie actors are supposedly paying thousands of dollars, (I heard up to $100,000), to book flights into outer space. Names like Ashton Kutcher, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, are some that I’ve read about, anyhow.

Well, little Cole says, “Mommy, can we take a ride too?”

She responded very casually, “Oh no honey. We can’t afford to take a flight into space.”

I glanced over at her and said, “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion and it’s not science fiction, it’s for real!”

Truly, I never thought this day would come.

In between writing, revising and trying to find an agent, I had a party. The furniture was moved all around, made into cozy little sitting areas with small tables, flowers, candles, tiny lamps with fake flickering flames and … sparkly orange butterflies. My friends arrived with their favorite appetizer and a bottle of wine and we had a very grand time.

The party store sold these little lights that last up to eight hours long. Just twist and voila … it was so pretty! That was 24 hours ago and as I write here on my blog, I’m looking at the butterfly that I stuck inside one of the flower arrangements and the light is still flickering … weak but still making an attempt to stay alive.

I guess in a way, that’s me when it comes to the business of writing and trying to go forward to the next step, of finding an agent.

Trying to keep my little light of hope alive. That’s all I can do.