*** Signs ***
I went to a furniture store today to look for a Christmas gift for my DH. We added on to our house over two years ago so he could have his own office because he works out of our house. Since the office has been finished, he's done very little to the room. He has pictures leaning against the wall waiting to be hung, his built-in bookshelves are crammed with knicknacks and books and binders. His desk - when you can find it - is usually a mass of work, and the recliner he hauled in and left in the corner is forever hidden under - yet again - a mess of books and papers and boxes and toys the kids drag in there and bombard him with. So for his present this year, I'm planning to clean up his office, hang his sports pictures, decorate it the way I know he wants it done but hasn't ever gotten around to doing himself. (It's the only room in the house that hasn't been touched by yours truly, and I figure two years is long enough to wait for him to do it.) There's one empty wall near his beat-up recliner that needs something, so I was at the furniture store this morning looking for just the right piece to fill the space. Did I find it? No, but I found something else.
The doubt demons have started to creep in on me, and coincidentally, the reason I braved the furniture store with my youngest two gremlins this morning was because I needed to get out of the house and away from writing to clear my head. It's December, my book's been out for a while, and I'm making myself antsy waiting for news. And the longer I wait, get updates from my agent, stress and angst, the more those darn doubt demons push their way in. So as I strolled through the store today, I tried to banish all thoughts of writing from my head, but it never really worked. In the back of my mind I kept hearing a little voice saying, "It's not gonna happen. Just give up. Accept defeat." I could literally feel the darkness pressing down on my shoulders, welling into a knot in my stomach. And then, just like magic, I looked over at a living room display, and sitting on an end table was a small wooden sign that said simply: BELIEVE.
I can't begin to tell you what that one word did to me. I stopped. And stared. And my kids started fussing and making noise. But all I could do was look at that sign and read it over and over and over again. I'm convinced that's exactly what it was - a sign. Here I was, questioning myself more than I have in months, and what I most needed popped up right in front of my eyes.
Believe.
I bought the sign, brought it home and put it on my desk. I'm looking at it now, at the black block letters with the sanded edges. And everytime I consider the possibility I'm not going to make it in this publishing business, I look at that sign. I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason. There was a reason I went to that store this morning - a store I haven't step foot in in over a year. There was a reason I walked right by that sign. Maybe this book won't be the one, but that doesn't mean it won't ever happen.
So doubt demons, be gone. I believe.
Do you believe in signs?
The doubt demons have started to creep in on me, and coincidentally, the reason I braved the furniture store with my youngest two gremlins this morning was because I needed to get out of the house and away from writing to clear my head. It's December, my book's been out for a while, and I'm making myself antsy waiting for news. And the longer I wait, get updates from my agent, stress and angst, the more those darn doubt demons push their way in. So as I strolled through the store today, I tried to banish all thoughts of writing from my head, but it never really worked. In the back of my mind I kept hearing a little voice saying, "It's not gonna happen. Just give up. Accept defeat." I could literally feel the darkness pressing down on my shoulders, welling into a knot in my stomach. And then, just like magic, I looked over at a living room display, and sitting on an end table was a small wooden sign that said simply: BELIEVE.
I can't begin to tell you what that one word did to me. I stopped. And stared. And my kids started fussing and making noise. But all I could do was look at that sign and read it over and over and over again. I'm convinced that's exactly what it was - a sign. Here I was, questioning myself more than I have in months, and what I most needed popped up right in front of my eyes.
Believe.
I bought the sign, brought it home and put it on my desk. I'm looking at it now, at the black block letters with the sanded edges. And everytime I consider the possibility I'm not going to make it in this publishing business, I look at that sign. I'm a firm believer that things happen for a reason. There was a reason I went to that store this morning - a store I haven't step foot in in over a year. There was a reason I walked right by that sign. Maybe this book won't be the one, but that doesn't mean it won't ever happen.
So doubt demons, be gone. I believe.
Do you believe in signs?
posted by Elisabeth Naughton at 6:41 PM
6Comments:
Cue the Twilight Zone music... ;-) That sure as heck sounds like a sign to me! I know the waiting has to be killing you, but everything that has happened points to you selling soon. Ok, maybe not this book, probably will be but maybe not. But it will happen for you.
Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate the vote of confidence. :)
Funny - I bought a sign yesterday that said "Dream."
Oooooh. That's creepy cool. And yeah, I believe in signs--I think you have to be open to seeing them which you definetely were. And it's going to happen for you! It is! It's the holiday season for editors right now too--and you're someone's present! They just haven't opened the proposal in the midst of all the eggnog and parties. It IS going to happen for you.
Thanks, Wavy. Your encouragement means a lot. I have good feelings about you and the coming year as well. :)
Ooh, Mary. I like that sign too. Great minds think alike. ;)
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