Yes, you probably should take this as a warning I’ll take tomorrow off. If you guys have thanksgiving sales on, send them to me now as I can assemble a post for tomorrow by tonight.
As all of you, and some other people know, I’ve been disheartened, dispirited and down right depressed over my writing, and my soit disant career, but yesterday one of my “kids” (HOW did the woman who tried to have 11 kids but ended up only birthing two sons end up with a tribe of you who call me “mom” anyway? It’s a miracle.) reminded me that without the 40 years in the desert, the exodus would not have lead to Israel as a nation, much less as a people. And without the whole “kill a man and run off into the desert” Moses would not have made a good leader, anyway.
I mean, it had to be unpleasant as hell to live through. But without it, he wouldn’t be what he was supposed to be.
It’s unpleasant as hell to start a new career at 56. And I’ve been avoiding it because it’s like being told there’s yet another mountain to climb.
But as a friend reminded me, it would be more unpleasant at 75.
I was never one to subscribe to the “everything happens for the best in the best of all possible worlds”. Husband, incurable optimist that he is, does.
But without the no-promo, uphill both ways career, I probably wouldn’t have this blog or you lot, or all the “children” and “grandchildren” I keep accruing.
And I wouldn’t have learned to write upsidedown, sideways, and wearing a straight jacket while locked inside a tank of freezing water.
Yes, it’s also tired me out and made it difficult to find my real self as a writer, but it’s taught me an awful lot.
It could be much, much worse.
Without all of that, I’d not have the network of indie friends. And perhaps I’d not be able to take advantage of indie now it’s available (it’s taken me long enough to jump, and even before the soit disant career, the self-confidence sucked.)
I’m willing to admit I have a lot to be thankful for. And some of it are things I’d rather I hadn’t lived through.
And I have hope. And that’s the thing to be most thankful for always.
So, go forth and have your turkey. Send me your sales (your free books, your strange links yearning to be read) and I’ll do what I can tonight.
For now, go prepare your turkey. Armour your heart to be charitable to crazy relatives. Bask in those relatives you have and love, because time is fleeting and we’re all mortal (I was thinking today how much I miss the kids when they were little, and I wish I’d known how happy I was then. I’m sure in a few years, as the kids disperse around the country I’ll miss this time.)
Let’s make the future something to be thankful for. Be not afraid.