dog pound

This morning, I walked through the animal shelter in Orange County, CA. Pathetic looking puppies and oddly mixed breeds sat and anticipated my response from behind a caged door. Heather walked with me, taking time to coach the dogs - "you're cute, I wouldn't worry. You'll get out of here soon," she'd say. Or "just tilt your head to the side, that's it." Consultation at its finest.
I thought of the times I have consulted with clients to help them market themselves as writers. As an editor, I have insight into that secret world of the "they" that choose who gets to become published. And it's just about as subjective as one dog being chosen out of the many to belong to a particular home. Most of them will be chosen at one time or another. And some of them never, among those are the few who have given up altogether. They lay in the back of the kennel and don't even respond when you call. It's the same for us. There's plenty of resources out there. You don't even have to be the cutest or the most talented. You just have to keep trying and show up.
That's it. Save. Print. Send. You've got just as much of a chance as anyone. ::em::

an obssession

My son was sitting next to me today as I studied for a research paper I am currently working on. With a brightly colored box of 8 Crayola Crayons and a small Mead notepad, he set busily to work. He showed me one piece of work he had finished - a large yellow rectangular shape, Superman, he announced. Why not, I thought. He stood up and placed one hand on his hip and the other reaching into the sky - "Superman!" he insisted. I laughed. Of course. My husband and I are superhero fans. We collect comic books, keep up with the authenticity of movies portraying our favorite heros, and use examples from nonexistent universes as allegories to explain real life feelings and circumstance.
So he wants to be Superman. I couldn't think of a better role model for a three year old. Well, he also wants to be a rocketship, but Superman will have to do for now.