I wish I could say today was the day I landed a literary agent. I’ve only sent a few queries so far, and I am hopeful that day is coming soon, but it’s actually a big birthday for me. A milestone birthday, if you will. One I wasn’t really looking forward to but will gladly accept because it is a precious gift. Not everyone gets here… especially in this strange new world we find ourselves in.
Sometimes I find myself longing for the past and wishing to live in a simpler time. Fewer responsibilities. More free time. Deeper laughter and a longer night’s sleep. I wrote my first YA novel, a historical romance (is the 90s historic yet?), listening to hits from 1995 and riding the wave of euphoria that can only be felt with the release of creativity and nostalgia. It was long before social media and cell phones. Heck, we still had pagers and dial-up Internet. It was before Columbine. Before the Twin Towers fell and the nation collectively gasped in horror. It was a time of boom boxes and hip-hop beats, bike rides and dips in the pool by day and toilet papering houses by night. I wanted to capture the thrill of my youth in my first novel because there was a story I had to tell. Not my story, but a timeless story bursting through my chest to take its first breath in this modern world.
You can say the completion of my novel is a milestone in and of itself. And, I completed it before this big birthday. Many people begin writing a novel and never finish. I’m glad I had the tenacity and vision to see it through. I don’t know what will become of it. Maybe I will publish it traditionally or independently online. I have high hopes, but at a very minimum, I fulfilled my dream of becoming an author. That is a gift! So happy birthday to me.
With more gray hair than ever, thanks to my overgrown dye job, I stand proud with my wrinkles and the baby weight I have yet to lose and say thank you for another year. Thank you for this life. Thank you, Universe, for all the blessings–my kids, my husband, our home, our health, our safety, the love of family and friends, and the list goes on and on. I will keep writing stories that matter. Stories that come from the heart. Stories that hopefully touch someone and make them see things in a different light. Stories that say I lived. I mattered. I cared.
Love and Light Always,
Marie
Marie McKoy 