The Perfect Romance

Everyone probably won’t describe falling in love the way I’m about to lay things down. It truly takes spotting a Prince, or a Cinderella to do this. The funny thing is, and that’s funny as in ironically funny, was me finding this romancing mood after thinking back on a time when I wondered how many writers truly loved writing.

I fell in love with writing the same way we typically fall in love with a mate. First you spot him (or her), and right away know you’ll love him (or her)... FOREVER... no matter what.

As it happened for me however, the day before falling in love, I didn’t know who I was, or better, that I even was looking for a love to love. I must’ve gotten up like I did every day, night came, and the next thing I knew, I wanted to be a writer.

Without reciting what has to be now mold growing on a possibly zillion day old story, I was four when I fell in love with the idea of writing. Hadn’t wrote a thing. Actually, couldn’t even spell my name, let alone could I read or write it, yet there I was, knowing I wanted to write.

That’s when the romance started, something like fantasizing about falling in love and living happily ever after, but no action thereafter... other than hoping and wishing.

But Lucky Me! After being told I needed experiences to write, made it easier to put my mind and energies into other activities, though not without a day going by wondering when I’d meet this Prince.

And then he showed up. Gosh, a drum roll would go over nicely right about here. I knew it the second I laid eyes on him, he was my Prince. He wasn’t all decked out wearing designer shoes or anything like that. In fact, this Prince wasn’t wearing any shoes. He came to me barefoot and humble. Reviviscence was his name, or the Rev...

Trimming off the mushy details about me and the Rev... as this part in our affair could easily take me over the 5-700 words I’m trying to stay within, but as the old saying goes, the Rev... learnt me well. I will always be indebted to the Rev... Every day I think about him, especially given the fact that out of this relationship my child was born, and following this child, the plethora of dimensions that go into raising a Prince's child.

I didn’t do this with my natural children, but for the Prince’s child I stuck my head in plenty of writer resources—books—to learn the ins and outs to writing and publishing.

I read and read, and read some more. How to query agents. What publishers were looking for in book proposals. And how incredibly high those slush piles were. Man! I think that’s what I spent most of my time reading. Won’t soon forget it either. Between that and the Rev's... lessons, each time I hear of a new writer, the first thing I want to tell them is, “respect your Prince...” and he, (or she), will reward you handsomely.