M-m-m-m-My Conundrum

Dictionary.com defines it as:
1. a riddle, the answer to which involves a pun or play on words, as What is black and white and read all over? A newspaper.
2. anything that puzzles.



I have dreamed of being a successful author ever since I was a child. I learned to read and write early, thanks to my big sister, and have been having a love affair with words ever since.

Look at that messy, windblown, tomboy of a girl. Do you see the dreams spinning around in her head? (If you could really see my face, you'd see that I was terrified of that puppy...but that is for a different post.)

And yet...I'm shy. My daydream never included fame. I didn't dream of appearing on television to discuss my latest novel. I didn't dream of press conferences, book signings or magazine articles about me. I hate having my picture taken so much that I actually get a knot in my stomach when I know I have to stand in front of a camera. I can't even imagine being on TV. I'm sure I would be tossing my cookies. Blechhh. I always thought I would write under a pen name.

What I wanted, what I still want, is for my BOOKS to become famous. I want them to be widely read, wildly popular and talked about. I would love, Love, LOVE to have my book made into a fabulous feature film. In my fantasy, of course, the film would be a blockbuster. Who would play Sarah? Or Hixson? Oh, it's lovely to think about.

The trouble is, I want all of that, without having my face attached to any of it. I want to be a literary hermit, cranking out wonderful books from my gorgeous little office in the pines. I want the royalty checks and rave reviews to stream in like the sunlight streaming in through my oversized windows.


Is this a place to WRITE, or what?
I love my small life. I have no desire to change it: it's quiet, simple and comfortable. Sweet Hubs and I enjoy our time together living with the greatest measure of simplicity we can manage. I don't hunger after notoriety of any sort. Fame doesn't interest me and I don't want to be wealthy, though I would love to be comfortable enough to not worry about money ever again. I don't want a big, fancy house or a limo. My car suits me fine and that sweet little house in the trees (way up north) is exactly what I want.

When I write it out that way, I realize it sounds like I'm wishing for a half a dream. But I'm a big girl now. Childish fantasies have long since floated away. Instead of looking for a publisher who wants to give me a big, fat advance, I'll plug away at writing and I'll continue to publish via e-books. For at the core of that dream is the physical, constant, unassuaged urge to write.

(Here's a sneak peek at one idea for the cover of my any-day-now book. What do you think?)


Recently, SOME dear person pointed out that I needed to add some images to my blog. Don't hold your breath, waiting for current pictures of me...but maybe she's right. :D Thanks for the tip! And thanks very large...for picking me as last round's editor's choice. (Blushing modestly).

P.S. Yes, that IS a bottle of wine on the table in my heavenly little home up north. I have my priorities straight.