My first supporter

When I was young and full of optimism, I wanted to be a writer.    Mother Helping Daughter with Homework

And like many, my mom had been one of my first supporters. Mom had also been my first reader, having typed up by Victoria Holt-esque story during her lunch hour so I could turn it in for my creative writing class (we didn’t have a home computer at the time). And she had liked it (!) and we discussed the plot points together. (What I would give to figure out where that thing is!)

But somewhere along the way, maybe after a couple dings on an English paper on Ethan Fromme (maybe that’s why I hate that book so much?) and an English teacher who didn’t think my writing was very good, I made a detour and became … an attorney? It wasn’t my life long dream, by any means. But my mom (and dad) supported me in my decision, even if my mom sometimes wondered what had become of my first dream.

Ten years ago today, within a year after becoming an attorney, my mom died unexpectedly. She died before meeting her grandchildren and before I had a chance to… well. She died too soon.

Last week I signed my first contract with a publisher. A publisher who wants to publish my work! I’m sure I’ll mention the long road I took to getting back to this path in some future post. But for now, I just want to recognize my mom. Who always believed in me and can’t be here to celebrate my thrill and excitement of finally realizing my first dream. And like I’ve said many times over the years and I’m sure I’ll continue to say… I wish you were here.

Girl giving mom flowers.

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