Five years ago this month, I made the decision to write a book and pursue my thirty plus year dream of becoming a published author. The decision was made after I stumbled upon a writing contest being hosted by my dream publisher. After telling my Mountain Man about the contest, he encouraged me to finally stop talking about writing a book “one day” and just do it. So, I did.
I wish I could say the road has been smooth and that I’ve reached my end goal of a writing contract, but I can’t. You see, the road has been full of detours and delays with some rocky trails along the way. In addition to being an aspiring author, I’m also a full-time middle school teacher, daughter, wife, mom, and grandmother.
You might be wondering what I’ve accomplished in five years. Well, I’ve written three complete manuscripts. Two of which went through multiple rounds of revisions with the editor before being rejected. The last rejection was received just last month.
Where do I go from here? Well, if I still hope to see my name on the cover of a book on a bookstore shelf, I only have one option. And that is to keep trying until I receive “the call” from an editor offering me a publishing contract. And even then it won’t be the end of my journey. It will simply be a new road.
I dreamed of Momma last night. She passed away in 2010 after a hard fought battle with cancer. Even after seven years, there’s hardly a day that goes by without me thinking of her, but it’s been a while since I dreamed of her.
Most Saturday mornings you can find me and my Mountain Man at the local restaurant having breakfast. I generally eat a western omelet or pork tenderloin and eggs. Not this morning though. This morning, I was craving my sweet momma’s cooking. My momma could cook some of the best meals and desserts around…fried chicken, fried green tomatoes, biscuits, cornbread, banana pudding, German Chocolate cake…the list could go on and on of the things I miss that my momma could cook better than anyone else.
So, what did I have this morning that transported me back to Momma’s kitchen?
I was craving my momma’s bologna gravy. Since it’s not on the menu at the restaurant, I ordered the bologna breakfast plate (two eggs, bologna, gravy, and biscuit) and assembled the gravy myself.
Momma was born in the 1940s not many years after the Great Depression. She was one of nine kids (one died in infancy), so my Memaw had a lot of mouths to feed on very little money. One way of doing this was to fry up some bologna, cut it into small pieces, mix it into some white gravy, and serve it over biscuits.
The bologna gravy this morning wasn’t quite the same as hers, but it was good enough to bring me sweet memories of Momma. Oh, how I miss her!!
I’m blogging on Seekerville today. If you have a moment and feel so inclined, please stop by. We’re discussing time management skills.