This past week has taken me back to the process of editing. All was going well. I finished part one of DREAM CATCHERS on Tuesday, moving into part two with hopes of completing the third and final part of the novel by Wednesday. Darlings were cut away to make this story even better before sending it back out into the query trenches. When the epiphanies struck Wednesday morning, I knew there would be much more work involved, but a better version of this story I so loved would emerge from the ashes. Like a phoenix. Like a flame.
To those not accustomed to the process of writing and editing, this may seem extreme. And yes, chapters will be cut, others reshuffled, but I assure nothing of this story, nor my dream, will be lost. Often I think of myself formed in the lines of the following quote:
"SHE'S A DREAMER. A DOER. A THINKER. SHE SEES POSSIBILITY EVERYWHERE. "
And I remember all the many people in my life who've made me into this dreamer now as I attempt to find publication for a book about dreams. I think back to the time in fourth grade when I almost quit chorus. It seems like a silly memory now, and amidst rejections and years spent writing my novel, this might seem like nonsensical nostalgia. What I extract from such a trip down memory lane is not the fact that I almost quit, but rather, the notion that one person had complete belief in me, enough to convince me to continue. Mr. Elwyn Roll was my elementary school music teacher, the director of every musical I performed in from 3rd-12th grade, and later, my choral director in high school. Long after that moment, Mr. Roll convinced me time and again to never give up. To continue on.
Last night, I embarked back on a journey to my high school with many more alum to celebrate the retirement of someone who has brightened the minds and hearts and voices of our community for almost forty years. We gathered with candles to join current students in singing "Light the Candles," a song which encompasses all of my childhood, and the hope to make real change beyond school days.
It was somewhat strange going back. There were faces I haven't seen in years, but the auditorium smelled just the same. And I realized how many things have changed since I graduated eight years ago, and how much remains the same. I knew all the words to the song, and the voices filled the room and reminded me how those walls had kept me safe in some of my toughest times. But what's more, the notion that one person could imbue so much love into the world by making us all believe we could create real change beyond that stage and the hallways and practice rooms.
There's a moment I recall now from my senior year where I sat writing a first person narrative about Oliver Twist because I had been cast in the lead role of "Oliver" (pictured above). It was in this moment that I thought, maybe, I could be a writer. And eight years later, I still have that piece of paper I was given to capture my character on the page. I was taught from a young age to rise after falling. To be better. Dream bigger. And after all this time, I haven't given up the dream of this book. The edits are still underway. The novel is becoming better. I am better.
While last night I traveled from real world nostalgia back into the fictional world I've created, I realized that growing up does not mean that nothing will be lost, because things change. But there is some comfort in knowing that the people we love best, the ones who inspire and light sparks within us to make us believe anything is possible, they never change. They are still there to make us remember to continue on. Keep editing. Send another query. Share your voice with the world.
