Dear Ten Year Old Me (And NEWS)

Dear Ten Year Old Me,

I picked you for this letter because, right about this time, you're coming off a high of binge reading and rereading the Emily series you were given at Christmas. Even though you've wanted to be a writer from the moment you could pick up a crayon*, this was the first time books really spoke to you about being an author. Finally, there was a character like you, who was a little weird, loved to tell stories, and wrote because she just had to write. Emily was a writer. Her story told you about all the hard work and rejection and sacrifice... but also the joy... of trying to climb the Alpine Path.

"For writing, to Emily Byrd Starr, was not primarily a matter of worldly lucre or laurel crown. It was something she had to do." (Emily's Quest, LM Montgomery)

Until college, writing will be as important to you as breathing. You'll write "books" to give as gifts to your fifth grade teachers. You'll dabble in (bad and sometimes tolerable) poetry. In high school, you'll write massive amounts of fanfiction and a horribly Mary Sue-ish Star Trek novel-length story. You will fill a ton of journals, and your beloved copy of Emily of New Moon will start falling apart.

There will be a few years during and after college where you just give up. Years with too much math and science filling your head and sucking up your time and making you think you lost any chance of being a "real" writer. It will take a long time to find your way back, silly you, but you will.

You will write and fail and get rejected. You'll learn to take criticism and to have a love/hate relationship with your email** inbox. You will meet amazingly talented and supportive people along the way.

People who will believe in you, too.

Ten year old me, you're not afraid to dream, and anything is possible in your world. You might forget for a little bit when you grow up, but I'm here to tell you that you were right, and this is how I know:

Sorry it wasn't the horseback riding girl detective book that I'm sure you would have preferred, but I hope this works.

Thank you for dreaming.

Love and kisses,

Grown-up Me

*and Mom has the "books" to prove it. Oh, lordy, does she. BTW, thanks for entertaining us at dinner the other night

**Don't worry, you'll learn that word in high school. Sorry to tell you that we don't have flying cars, though. I hear we might get the self-lacing sneakers from Back to the Future soon, if it makes you feel any better.

(I'll post a more substantial post about my actual calls, both agent and editor, later, but first I just wanted to share the news! I couldn't have gotten to this point without all of your support, my amazing critique partners and betas [special shout-out to Veronica, Stephanie, and Deena for reading it a gajillion times and Madeline for all the kissy scene support,] my awesome agent Carrie, and Patricia and Asja at SHP for believing in Bookishly Ever After enough to give it a home.)

I normally don't use anything but my own photos on this blog, but I just couldn't help but make this. Yes, I'm being a total drama queen :)