Last Sunday was Mothers’ Day. Since I am a mother, I made a decision to treat myself to a day when I did nothing. Well, I did things with my hubby. We took the day to visit, take a drive, eat out. Just do whatever we felt like doing—together.
I visited with my sons, two at the cemetery near my mom and dad, one by phone as he’s in Alaska, and one in our home as he lives with us. I sat in my living room, thought about the next book that’s cooking in my brain, watched the lake, and started reading a new book. I enjoyed the home made key lime pie my hubby made for me. I admired the lovely flowers I received from the men in my life who love me.
It was a marvelous day.
A vacation day if you will.
Something I don’t take as often as I should.
But since my last post, I’ve accomplished something I never thought would happen. Three of my books finaled in three different categories of the same readers judged contest, The Write Touch Readers Award. The winners will be announced on June 1st—just a few weeks from now. The books were as follows:
An Island No More—romantic suspense. (This book took second place in the Bean Pot Readers Choice and has finaled in the 2013 Award of Excellence contest.)
Better Than Dessert—mainstream.
Seasons of Wine and Love—single title.
I got the call one evening when I was exhausted. I’d been caring for our disabled son who lives with us and been up for 40 hours straight. I’d just showered and gotten into my jammies and was on a path for bed when the phone rang. I ignored it instead crawling into bed.
But my hubby walked into the bedroom and insisted I take the phone. Of course, I figured the call couldn’t be a good one. (I tend to get negative when overtired to the tenth power.)
I picked up the phone and said hello. Hesitation colored my voice I’m sure. That didn’t last long.
Of course, I was beyond excited at the news. (I’d hoped to final with one book but when she continued with number 2 and 3, well, I was flabbergasted.) However, I was also half asleep. I’m sure I didn’t make any sense during our conversation and I’ll have to apologize when or if I see the woman at the awards luncheon—yes, I’ll be there for that.
After the call I fell asleep and slept for maybe nine hours. When I woke the next morning to coffee, I sat in my chair and looked at my husband. Then I said to him, “I had the strangest dream last night.”
“You did?” He set the paper down and turned to me. “What was it about?”
“You woke me up and insisted I take a call. The caller told me three of my books finaled in a contest.”
Dear hubby chuckled. “Honey, that wasn’t a dream. That happened.”
“Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not. I listened in on the other phone. You really did.”
Well, let me tell you hearing my dream really wasn’t a dream made my day. My week and ever since. Writers always dream of getting calls such as that one—ones that bring news of success because finaling is special. It is another measure of success. However, I’m so glad this is one dream that wasn’t a dream, but real.
I wonder–have any of you “slept through” a moment of success?
P.S. Today is hubby and my 34th anniversary. Our romance started with another phone call. His to me. Sort of asking me if I dated. I answered “not really.” He asked why. I answered “No time and more importantly no one’s asked.”
I’m so glad he asked.