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The Writing Mother

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Monday, August 23, 2004
The Dedication

For those who don't know, a friend invited me to join her novel writing group. I'm certain she invited me so I would stop whining about my desire to write a book, and my lack of motivation. I know, whiners drive me crazy... but they say what irritates you most about others is what irritates you most about yourself.

Anyhoo... the first step is to dedicate my book.

This is way harder than I thought... this blogger window has been open for about three hours. She says, "You want to thank the people who believe in you, the ones who understand. Book writing is a process, and you're going to want to keep inmind ahead of time that people believe in you." Hope that's ok to quote you on AGK....

I know people believe in me. I have no doubt. But I really can't imagine that anyone understands me. I hardly understand myself. It's like.... I believe that the sun will set tomorrow, but do I understand the physics and mechanics of why it does? Not really.

First, I dedicate this book to the child I was. The one who believed that if she painted rocks and lined them up, that people would come by her house and buy them - even when she lived in a village of less than 100 people. I dedicate this book to the impetuous, free, unblemished young woman I was before I faced the real world. I dedicate this to my unbroken heart and to my healing heart. To my hopeful heart and my romantic heart.

I dedicate this book to my son, that he might someday read it and know me as a person. A person within the mother that I am. That he may be as proud of me as I am of him. That he may look to all of the good things I created and know he was the greatest of all.

I dedicate this to the ones who make me truly believe that love is a verb and not just a noun. For the couples I count as the true loves, the ones who have already stood the test of time. Wyn and Ian, Herb and Daina, Bob and Barb. The ones who show the most promise. Shelly and Corey, Jason and Pam, Jodie and Jerry.

I dedicate this to Donnie, the youngest soul who taught me the greatest amount about the fragility of life. May you know one day how much better of a person you made me.

  The Writing Mother
  posted at 10:37 PM


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