Topsy-Turvy in Titusville
I'm 45 years old in two weeks and am blessed with the freedom to ask myself this question: What do I want to be when I grow-up? I want to be a writer, massage therapist, teacher, trainer, an EMT, advocate, etc.... With the exception of a professional writer, I am all of those things. My upbringing, work-hard, dream big, nothing's impossible- leads me to keep on pushing for the chance to share my thoughts, my passions and my stories with the world. But I am losing the courage to face disappointment, rejection letter after rejection letter. How humbled must I become? On good days, I thrive on the story of J.K. Rowling- on her 20 plus rejection letters and her lonliness and her poverty. "If she can do it, so can I!" And then I realize that there are thousands of others, in her shoes, who aren't as fortunate. On bad days, such as today, I think, "Who am I fooling? Might as well throw in the towel and settle for something for which I need to pack a lunch!" But then it happens. My computer sits, lonely, off. Beckoning. I sit in my cozy chair with nimble, anxious fingers. Stories and words and ideas scream from within, "Pick Me! Pick Me!" and the process begins for another day. I am not giving up, not today.

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