It would be impossible to mention a blog about the number six without thinking of my six children. Yet, in an odd way, my writing is the world I made separate from my kids. Six, beautiful, life-changing people have entered my life like precious treasures, and as wonderful as that is, myself could get lost. Eventually I entered my own world and left them while I romped through the trees of my imagination, marveled at beautiful castles, and invented noble heroes. Supple, I moved unfettered, able to do those things that I could do when I had the fitness of a 20 year-old. Through writing, I was a child again. I could be selfish, deciding that this fantasy would be exactly what I wanted it to be. In here, I was bossy, and I got my own way.
Also, I'm yearning. I'm feeling insecure. I'm risking making new friends in the publishing world, putting myself out there like a kid in junior high, afraid I might be laughed at.
In this journey I've made a discovery. That I can talk to my kids about what I'm writing. Sometimes they listen with kindness and let me ramble on about this world I've discovered/created. And sitting next to them, revealing my vulnerability and hoping they like me, I find that I'm a child even younger than they are.
So I allow myself the freedom to wander off and write, because I know that when I choose to come back I will be enriched by the experience. Safe, in the love of my family, I can find that story inside that I need to express. And maybe someday, one of my kids might even read one of my books from cover to cover!
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