My trip to Grand Rapids was an out-of-body experience. Michigan is beautiful this time of year, so the scenery itself gave the trip a dreamlike quality. But, so many things occurred that don’t normally happen to ordinary Iowa girls like me, I began to wonder if I was living someone else’s life. I’m not being modest. More like flabbergasted, incredulous, blown-away. Here are a few examples:
- The editors at Discovery House Publishing took me out to dinner. (I can’t believe I’m saying this: “My editors took me to dinner.”) It was pretty cool, discussing who to get to endorse my book, and finding out they can contact some people I thought were way out of reach. And I managed not to spill anything on my lap, belch, or sneeze with food and drink in my mouth.
- The friend I stayed with, Shelly Beach, knows everyone in Grand Rapids. We met a couple of them, both published book authors, at a bakery one morning. I thought they would be highfaluting, literary types. But instead they were frazzled moms happy to talk grown-up for a few minutes while somebody else watched their kids. They even appreciated my parenting advice.
- Shelly took me to visit her editor. He asked to see our mystery book proposal when it’s ready in a month. If you are a writer, you know how many hurdles were avoided with that request.
- At the “Speak Up” Conference, which was the main reason I went, my-son-the-monk was often the topic of conversation. Many people were so fascinated, they asked for my business card. What can I say?
If it weren’t for the laundry waiting to be done, the backlog of mail, the huge list of things to follow up on, and my increasing sense of panic as my to do list grows exponentially, I’d be sure I’m living someone else’s life.
But I’m not. And the only explanation I can come up with is this: Aslan’s on the move.
