I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve looked at the website. It seemed like it was time to make a commitment. And so a few weeks ago I did it. I joined the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI). It is true that anyone who wants to support children’s books can join. As a school librarian I already had all the credentials I needed to join.
Still, while it felt exhilarating and exciting, it also felt scary. I could sign up as a librarian and let it go at that. I didn’t, though. When I had the chance to check off
I put a check mark next to author. Ever since I’ve been feeling like I told a whopper. I feel like a truth bender, exaggerator, like I’m playing fast and easy with the facts, like a snake oil salesman.
The other day when I arrived home, the package from SCBWI was on the table. The light fell across it and illuminated it. I felt as if I was reaching for the holy grail, as if the moment I touched it my life would be different. I felt as if the contact between my skin and the package would set a set of events in motion that would change my life forever. I looked down to see if I was still middle aged or whether I had been transported to the natural state of my being – garbed in robes of flowing silk and scads of lace.
Funny enough, I do feel like my life has begun a transformation. The transformation happens when you begin to identify yourself as being something. Writing is not something I hope to do some day, but an act I do now and have been doing. I may not be good. I may not be ready to share what I write, but I am writing. Unlike the vision, it doesn’t happen in a flash of an eye. Rather it takes it’s time, pencil lead, notebooks, computer files and plenty of words.