Last night I had the perfect post in my head. Somewhere between the teen party and falling asleep with the littles, I lost it. Which might be okay in the long run, because if there’s one thing I’m not short on, it’s words. If I can write them down.
By nature, I’m an introvert and do much better conveying myself on paper than in person. A dream I had last night confirmed it. In this quasi nightmare, I was at my in-laws and the whole fam was there. The house was abustle with seventeen bodies. I sulked in the corner and watched as kids got dressed to go ice-fishing with the boys and the girls (sisters and mother-in-law) set out crafty stuff and spent the whole afternoon putzing together.
I’m a lucid dreamer and can consciously alter my dreams as they unfold. Knowing how wrong the craft party was without me, I stood up from my little corner, all shades of green, and said, “Hey, what about me?”
A small tidbit about my DH’s sisters and mother, they are not Becky Homeckies in the crafty kind of way. Painting, gluing, cutting and all out froofrooing for hours on end does not float their boats. In real life, the project would have had them ripping out their hair in seconds.
Cartoon style, they cocked their heads and murmered things like: Did you hear something? Nope. Nothing. Hmmm. No big deal. And they bent their heads back to their tedious task of beading minute glass orbs onto a thin wire.
“Fine,” I said to my dream self and picked up a notebook. “I have nothing important to add.” To which dream self snorted and replied, “I work better by myself anyways.”
Now that’s an extreme, but the dream got me thinking about how seldom we writers actually tell people what we do–or aspire to do. We are either introverted, shy or scared to death to spill the beans in case someone grinds them into paste rather than making a delicious stew.
Two days ago I not only spilled the beans, I threw them in the air like confetti. I sent an announcement email to a large chunk of family and friends letting them know about my blog. Over the last year or so, I had made very tiny steps in this direction and have been amazed over the responses. Much to my delight, support and interest topped the list of comments.
Yesterday, however, I got an email response that really knocked my socks off. One of my DH’s Cousins (yep, it was a far-reaching and scary toss of the beans) replied that he KNEW the OWNER of a publishinng company.
Unbeknownst to him (because he didn’t even know I wrote juvenile lit), it was one I have been seriously considering for a manuscript. Eeep. DH’s Cousin offered to INTRODUCE us. Double Eeep.
My point is this: we should never be afraid to talk about our passions (even if our aspirations include sled dog racing at the North Pole), because someone-somewhere will know someone-somewhere who may be able to help us reach our goals.
That’s not to say that DH’s Cousin’s Friend will be my golden meal ticket (though a girl can dream). It simply means that networking takes guts and effort. It is far easier to succeed if the kind, loving and generous people in our lives know how to help us. Had I sulked in the corner and kept my mouth shut, he couldn’t have put forth his generous offer to introduce us.
It makes a gal wonder how often we squander opportunities to connect with the right people because we say to ourselves, “Self, we have nothing important to add, and we work better by ourselves anyways.”
Do you have success stories about having that proverbial door opened through an unexpected contact?
If so, we’d like the hear the nitty-gritty. You never know, your story might inspire others to step out of the closet and share their dreams.