Wednesday, May 22, 2013


I literally spent every possible waking minute, (which means those not spent with adorable grandchildren, or with my Mom) perched in front of my computer from February to mid-April, pounding out the end of The Drgons of Alsace Farm in time for my pitch session with potential agent Hannah Bowman at the LDStorymaker's conference.

Sadly, Ms. Bowman stopped me two minutes into my pitch to say she doesn't handle straight women's fiction. Only quirky stiff. But she graciously offered to accept a partial copy of the manuscript which she would send along to other members of the Liza Dawson staff. Very kind.

So now I'm slowing the tempo, shooting queries out to other agents, and working on tightening the manuscript during the lull. I'm also attending to neglected family members, (hubby Tom) whose gentle disposition frequently makes him, and things like date night, the first things to slip off the "urgent" list.

Let  me tell you a bit about what writing Dragons has taught me. "Everyone has a something." No one gets a free pass in life. Some roads look easier than ours at times because we don't see the entire journey others are on, but whether it's medical, physical, emotional, financial, or spiritual, everyone gets a something, a rock, a wall, a mammoth incline that tests our mettle and causes us to recognize the need for God in our lives. Some of us figure that out. Some don't. Those who do, find peace in the middle of the struggle. I'm not sure how the others get through it.

What I've also been reminded of is how narrow our focus can become when we're in the middle of our own crisis. We can easily turn inward and forget that though silent, others are suffering, praying, longing, hanging on my a nail. We are the rescuers. That's great human drama. That's what I hope Dragons teaches. That as broken as we may be in some ways, we all have something to give, and we are all perfect for someone else.

So take a moment and check out the links and tell me what you see when you look into the Rabbit Hole.