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Okay, so back to this very different sort of post.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
This odd little story poured out of me about a year ago and at the time I was thinking it might have potential as a picture book. Now I don’t think so. Looking back on what I wrote, it’s too much “inside baseball” to have any real appeal to kids. Then I realized what it was: a love letter to all who dream of having their work published. It’s a love letter to the strange magic of having an idea show up out of the blue and epically haunt your life in the best way imaginable (can I get an amen?!). A love letter to this wild journey so many of us are currently living. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Maybe that’s you. Maybe you’ll see yourself in this story in a meaningful way. It is, I think, a story only writers will understand. It captures a lot of the highs and lows of getting an idea, working to get it down, trying to share it with the world, and then waiting for basically forever. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
My hope is that it leaves you feeling uplifted in the waiting, renews your belief that you’re part of something magical, and that it inspires you to keep letting things hit you in the head…(metaphorically speaking, that is). <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
And now for something entirely different. Dim the lights. Open the curtain. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
On an otherwise ordinary Monday, the author of this book was struck in the head. Whatever hit him seemed to come out of nowhere, careen through the open window, and strike him smack dab in the face. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
He looked and looked for where the thing had come from, but there was no making sense of it.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
So, there it sat. Right on his apartment living room floor. He stared at the thing, rubbing his head which was still a little sore from the impact.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
\u201cWhere on earth did you come from?\u201d he asked the thing. But the thing did not answer. Wanting to get a better look, the author bent down and gave it a good inspection. Nothing immediately jumped out at him as important. It just sat there. That mysterious thing that hit him in the head.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
What did it want? What was it for? What did it mean?\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
He desperately needed answers to his burning questions. <\/span><\/span>Perhaps<\/span><\/span><\/em>, he thought, <\/span><\/span>if I place my hand on this thing like so<\/span><\/span><\/em>\u2026<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
POW! <\/span><\/span><\/strong>Instantly a shockwave surged through his body.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
What in the world was that!? And even more curious, it seemed that touching the thing helped him understand it. Somehow, it felt as if he just spent enough time with it and really connected with it, it would reveal all the answers to his burning questions.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
So, he cuddled up with the thing. They watched a movie. They did all sorts of things together. And he took it everywhere he went.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Eventually, the thing told him everything he needed to know\u2013all except where it came from. That remained a mystery that the thing seemed pleased to keep hidden.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Through all his time with the thing, the author came to learn a story it had been teaching to him. A story called The Almost Book. It was an odd little story. And one the author didn\u2019t fully understand, despite knowing all the words.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
For whatever reason, the author felt it was time to put all the words the thing had shared on paper. And what a strange task it was! It seemed whatever words he set down on paper were somehow not as good as they sounded in his head. It was as if he could hear and see it all in his mind but was just not able to capture it all on the page. This frustrated the author to no end.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
So, he crumpled it up, threw it away, and forgot about it for a week.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
But in the forgetting of The Almost Book and its story and its words and the very thing that still sat upon his living room floor, it seemed to grow stronger in his mind. Yes, odd as it was, the more he <\/span><\/span>let go<\/span><\/span><\/em> of his attempt to capture it on the page, the clearer the words became.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Until it was simply too much to bear. <\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Those pesky words! They would not leave him alone! So, he tried again. This time, the words that he heard the thing speak and the words he wrote down on the paper seemed to match far more than before. The author felt very relieved by this.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
And so he set it all down. Every word of the story. Every word of The Almost Book that the thing had shared with him. Until it was done. And there it sat. How good it felt to have it all out of his head! They were out of his head and now on paper. And this pleased the thing too. It seemed to want to nap.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
With the thing napping, he wasn\u2019t sure what to do with The Almost Book. He sat and pondered what he might do with it. As he pondered, he glanced at his bookshelf and wondered how any of those books ended up there. Had other authors been struck in the head by things they also didn\u2019t understand where they came from? Had other authors struggled to get down in words all that they heard their thing whisper to them as well? And what had they done with their stories after they had been set down in words? What was the next step before they ended up on someone\u2019s living room shelf?\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
So, he made sure the thing had plenty of food and water and set to work. After all his research online (and at the local library), he knew more about his next step.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
He would need people to read his book. And these very important people who make lots of decisions would decide if The Almost Book was any good. So, he took many copies of The Almost Book, placed them in the mail, and sent them on their way.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Then he waited. And waited. And waited for what felt like forever. And then he got distracted and forgot about The Almost Book for several weeks. But then he remembered he was waiting so he waited some more. Finally, he received word back from one of the very important people. He was so filled with joy to see a reply to his work!\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
They didn\u2019t want it. Said it was way too weird and that kids couldn\u2019t connect to a book about the making of a book. The author didn\u2019t like reading this.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
That night, he sat in the living room, curled up next to the thing.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
\u201cThing? Why did you fly into my apartment and hit me in the head? Just why? There are so many other heads you could have hit. So many better people\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
And the thing did something strange. It glowed and warmed the whole room. As the author was wrapped in its light he heard the story again. Clean and clear as the first moment he had heard it.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re right, thing. It was just one person\u2019s opinion. So, I\u2019ll just have to send out more\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Then he waited. Forgot again. Waited some more. Read a few rejections. Sent out more copies. Waited again. Hung out with the thing. Got rejected even more. And then something even worse than rejections happened: <\/span><\/span>nothing<\/span><\/span><\/em>.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Soon there wasn\u2019t anything happening. At least when there were rejections, he knew the very important people were reading the book. Now, with nothing\u2026what was he to do?\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
In spite of the nothingness, he knew all he could do was send out more copies of The Almost Book. So he went back at it. Did more research. And sent out more. And the more they rejected him, the more he sent out. And then out of nowhere (also an ordinary Monday) the rejection was\u2026different.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
One of the very important people was asking for him to make\u2026<\/span><\/span>changes<\/span><\/span><\/em>. Changes to The Almost Book? Change? He wasn\u2019t sure what to think of that. But what he did know is the very important person wasn\u2019t saying no\u2026it was <\/span><\/span>maybe<\/span><\/span><\/em>.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n
Maybe…if he changed it. But did The Almost Book need changing? Had he not captured those wonderful words exactly as he had heard the thing speak? And what did this very important person know of the thing? Had they played cards with the thing? Attended Wednesday movies and snuggle nights!? Had this very important person been struck in the head by the thing too? Absolutely not! It was his thing. It chose him. <\/span><\/span>
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