Audacious dreams and grandmothers
Sitting on the couch, wiping away tears after an endearing episode of Queer Eye (if you haven’t watched the new Las Vegas season on Netflix, start it now—Jeremiah, the new queen, is adorable!) one of their cliches stood out to me - everyone deserves to dream. It’s true. No matter what age, what income status, what whatever—every one of us should have an audacious dream and I’m not talking about sleep-time dreams. My dream of being an author kept me going during my “shit-year” of 2022.
I didn’t grow up dreaming about being a writer as a child. I read a lot, because we moved a lot, so books were my escape and my friends, but I never thought about being an author. My goal was to be a mother, just like my mom. And when it came time to pick a career, I followed my father’s advice and became a CPA. (Believe me, no one dreams of being a CPA!) It wasn’t until I was well into my 50’s that I realized I had never allowed myself to write creatively. And it took several more years for me to believe I could actually do it well.
My kids’ high school hosted an annual literary festival. I joined as a volunteer when my oldest was a freshman and worked my way up to running the Highland Park Literary Festival for six years (two years after my youngest graduated!). I loved everything about this festival! From selecting the keynote and workshop authors, to participating in the workshops, to working with the English department teachers, students and volunteers. My favorite part however was hosting and interacting with incredible authors like Markus Zusak, Tobias Wolff, Billy Collins, and Naomi Shihab Nye. Part of the festival was one magical day when all the students skipped their regular English class for a creative workshop with a published author. We had all genres: journalism, flash fiction, slam poetry, song writing, fiction, etc. Most of the kids didn’t realize how fortunate they were to learn from such accomplished authors. But I did.
It was during these years that I started writing creative non-fiction, which is a fancy phrase for memoir writing. I wrote several stories and submitted one to the nearby college, University of North Texas’s, three-day writers conference. My piece was selected for an extra one-day review with a professor and other writers. I was beyond thrilled. Then, seated around a conference table of sixteen peers, my work was torn apart. Some of the nicer comments were “What a Pollyanna.” “This is fake, no one lives like this.” “You call this drama,?” I left the room and the conference early. Noone deserves to be treated like that. I was devastated and started believing my inner critic who kept telling me I would never be a writer. It took a discovery and well over two years for me to pick up my keyboard again!
The discovery came when I pulled out a blue striped cardboard box from under my parent’s bed. I was cleaning out things because we had had to move my sweet mom to assisted living; the Alzheimer’s finally succeeded in taking over her ability to function (another story for another blog). I opened the box and found a mess of old photos, yellowed three-fold programs, a book on whistling and a small black scrapbook—all belonging to my mom’s mom before she was a mom. I’d never seen any of these nor heard about her escapades as a professional traveling entertainer.
one of the photos found in the box!
I had no idea that this box full of treasures would spark my imagination enough to get me writing again. It was as if my grandmother had decided to reveal her secret past life just when I needed it most. I took the box home, poured through its contents, began online research and within a week, the characters of my historical fiction novel were living in my head. Within months, I had written about 10,000 words—they were really bad but I had something of a plot and multiple characters! I knew I needed to learn from some experts so started searching for an in-person writing workshop, which led me to North Carolina and my learning cascaded from there. I was asked to join an online writers critique group. From their recommendation I took several online creative writing courses through Stanford University. And through it all, I kept writing. This process helped me follow my dream through my kids starting their own lives, through my mother’s slow dying, and through my divorce.
And now, here I am, seven years later, after many “shitty” drafts, many, many edits, and lots of query letters to a manuscript that was accepted by a small publisher! It took years of hearing my writers' critique group, my friends, my teachers, and family tell me over and over again before I could believe—I am an author! My novel, Whistling Women and Crowing Hens is going to be published May 16th of 2025!
Do you have a newly formed or long held dream? Can you take a step towards realizing your dreams—no matter how audacious or crazy they may seem? It may be what you need to “turn a page” into the next chapter of living. Who knows where you’ll end up. You may find new friends, a new place to live, or even your new/old self! Don’t have a dream? Give yourself permission to dream on your next walk or as you journal or in the shower—wherever is secure enough that you can let your mind go! There are many suggestions online that can help you get going too. One of my new favorites is Five Lists, by Suleika Jaouad. I’ve already started to dig within myself to discover my next dream!
If you’d like—share in the comments below. I love to hear about your audacious dream ...
Stay curious and dream big!
~Melora Fern
