Ordinary

So I submitted part of the memoir I've worked on for three years to BYU's Inscape Magazine. They sent me an e-mail calling for alumni contributions for the winter edition. I sent the snippet over to my writer friend Jody for a quick edit and then off my finished product went for the editor's decision. I felt strangely after I clicked send. I think what I felt would be what I would feel if I entered one of my babies in a beautiful baby competition. Simply put, it might feel personal if it doesn't get published. I think of my writing in a dichotomy; in a matter of hours my work is magnificent and later as a re-read, it is crap. For sure the truth is what I write is in-between. I'm just an amateur writer with little time for writing groups or classes to improve my skills.

Once in awhile I dream of being something other than ordinary. Maybe Oprah will discover I'm her long lost blue-eyed sister and we can sit on her show and catch up on all the years we missed. Maybe one Sunday I won't muck up the piano accompaniment during sharing time. Or maybe, just maybe Inscape could publish my piece thus proving to the world that I'm here. Ha.

Yes, yes I'm joking. For sure I know my place is here making sure eyes get drops for their pink eye infections. I wouldn't trade any of their cute eyes for all the awards or publishings I of course would get if I had time to perfect my craft. I think I'll just tell myself that unless the piece gets published....