Grandmother Spider

My friend--and author extraordinaire--Eileen Charbonneau does these great readings using stones and crystals. Some of the stones are marked with glyphs, and she interprets them depending on where they fall on the table. Eileen has done several readings for me over the years, but I learned right away to look for the Grandmother Spider stone, because it represents the storyteller.

I've been writing for years and years. First short stories, then books. But I have yet to publish. So every time Eileen does a reading for me, and that Grandmother Spider stone shows up in an auspicious spot, it feels like validation. See? I am a storyteller.

Hey! The road to publication is long and the rejections and setbacks are many. I need all the validation I can get!

Since my last blog for the R8, there have been two big changes in my life. And when I say big, I mean ENORMAL.

1) In June I signed with an agent. She loves my work--talk about validation--but more on that later.

And 2) on Aug 4th I became a grandmother.  I am, right now, even as I type, happily ensconced in Oregon, visiting my new grandbaby.

It's been a long time since the days when my babies were small. I'm amazed by how much I forgot. For instance, I remember quite clearly how precious new babies are, how time consuming, and how fiercely protective they make you feel. No wonder so many people refer to the books they write as their "babies."

But I completely forgot how easy it is to lose yourself in them. The whole world right now revolves around this baby girl. Feeding, bathing, changing, cuddling, worrying. It's all about her. And it's so easy. In fact, it's impossible to think about anything but her.

That's where the similarity between babies and books usually ends. People often refer to the books they write as their babies, but they very rarely treat them that way.

So yeah. Back to that agent. Did I mention I got an agent? I did! So now I have two people devoted to selling my work. And one of them actually knows what she's doing.

The only thing I know how to do is write my books. And that's what I was doing--until this amazing grandbaby arrived. But I head back to Maryland on Thursday, and when I do, I'm going to treat my work in progress like a new baby. I'm going to lose myself in it. Let the whole world revolve around it. Feed it and cuddle it and worry about it and if I'm very lucky, it'll become impossible to think about anything else.

Like whether or not the editor at Penguin has read my book yet.  Or the editor at Balzer & Bray.

Or how much I miss this baby . . .

Photo: Personal photo, taken by the blogger