I'm working my way though all the people I'd like thank for how they impacted either my life or my writing. The first was my father, so now it's time to acknowledge my mother.
There is no single story that stands out for me with Mom. That's probably because there are so many of them. Mom was the one who spent the most time running me around to violin lessons, ballet, orchestra, play practice, swim lessons, camps, and anything else that took my fancy. My parents strongly believed in giving their kids every opportunity to learn new things. The only thing we absolutely HAD to continue was music, everything else was optional as long as we stuck with it through the whole season or production.
Mom was the taxi driver. She was also the one who made sure my siblings were there to cheer me on and I was there to cheer them on. And she was the one who kept track of whether or not I'd done my practicing, finished my homework, and had all the equipment I needed for whatever was next on my schedule.
I won't say that failure wasn't an option, but I will say she never accepted less than our best effort. What it taught me was that success didn't fall into your lap. You had to work for it. I started doing something because I thought it would be fun. After a while, it stopped being fun and just became plain hard work. But it always got fun again once I achieved some proficiency at it.
There was a point in the writing of this novella when wanted to call the publisher and say, "I'm sorry. I can't do this. You'll have to find someone else to take my slot." I literally heard my mother whisper, "You'll do no such thing. You started this, young lady, and you will finish it."
So, thanks Mom. Thanks for never letting me give up when it got too hard or stopped being fun. Thanks for teaching me that success is usually just after the point at which you want to give up. And thanks for fostering a family where we cheer each other on.
Until next time,