I think I’ve mentioned my book, story, novel, (I’m undecided on what to call a longer fiction story that may turn into a series when it’s still in the editing process, oh well) multiple times before. Ironically, the unlabeled document of words that I’m working on went unmentioned here. That is likely because I wrote this a moth or so before I thought of the previously said document.
It was the day that would change my life forever. It was the day that I knew I might actually be good at my passion. It was the day I realized my mom wasn’t just being a mom and actually told me the truth, that my writing was good. It was a frantic day but it was also a day full of excitement. It was the day that a letter made a day terrible day, marvelous. And to think it was the day I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
That morning I woke up in a pinch, in pain, and wishing for coffee and a crowbar. While I was still asleep I had rolled off of my bed and somehow managed to get myself stuck between my bed and the wall of my bedroom. My right arm was asleep underneath me and my left arm was wedged between me and my bed. After trying to move for what felt like hours, I was finally able to pull my left arm out and reach up to the edge of my bed. When I finally got back onto my bed, my stomach was grumbling as if it were lunchtime, and my body was aching from all of the different positions I had to put it into to get free. My right arm was still asleep, and I had a major caffeine headache. To think, it was only 8:30 am.
After my attempt to get downstairs without tripping failed, I managed to get over to the coffee pot and brew some coffee. I had just finished pouring myself my first cup of coffee when the bell rang. I have no idea why the postal man didn’t run away when I screamed bloody murder. I had screamed because I had dropped my hot ceramic coffee cup, which broke, and spilled the coffee down my front in the process. He also didn’t seem to be surprised when I answered the door with bed head, and a now stained pair of old PJ’s draped underneath a polka-dotted house robe.
“Hi, Tom.” I said sadly. He had been the bearer of so much bad news recently I had gotten used to it being him when I answered the door in the mornings.
“Hello. Bad morning, again?” He asked honestly. We had known each other for as long as I could remember and when I first found out he was my mail man the two of us laughed.
“I’m sorry. You have a box from your parents that always seems to cheer you up.” He said hopefully, and then he continued, “You also have more letters.” Then he handed me my mail. There was a big stack of letters on an equally sized box. “I’ll see you again. I hope you have a better day then it has been so far.”
“Thank you. Have a good day, Tom.” He was gone and I was left with a box and letters. Most letters recently have been terrible things for me to receive. They were letters of rejection, or bills, that ruined my day. I would always make sure I looked over the bills first then hopefully read the other letters in hopes that maybe, just maybe, one would say “We love your book. Please send us more.”
I got ten letters and the box from my parents. I opened the box first, I really needed a pick me up before I opened the dreaded letters. On top of the packing peanuts was a letter from my mom. It read:
I hope your writing is doing well. I can’t wait to start reading your books. Has anyone accepted your letters yet? I hope you have a good day no matter what. In the box are some of your old things from your room. I hope it helps in some way. I also put in some of your old journals. Maybe someone will like some of the stories you put in them when you were younger.
Anyhow, the Bed and Breakfast is going well. We hardly have any rooms open long enough for us to clean them. The RV slots are just as full and we even have people who call ahead to reserve slots, and people who are regulars. The firewood is being bought by the bundle and almost everyone who gets a slot seems to buy at least one bundle, if not more. We can hardly keep any of our shelves stocked and the carvings you sent us last year for Christmas are always beings admired and some people have even asked us if we would sell them. We always say no because that is a reminder to us of you, and I would hate to lose that. If you ever decide to come and visit, your room is always open and waiting. I miss you lots.
Hugs and Kisses,
Mom and Dad”
I sighed and wiped some “dust” out of my eye. My mom could be so encouraging. I only hoped someone would like my books like she did. I brushed that thought out of my mind and dove into the packing peanuts. The first thing I found were my old journals. I opened the top one up and found two twenty-dollar bills. My mom struck again. I laughed, happy I had something to line my wallet and looked deeper. She had sent some leather and my old leather tools. I knew my skills were more rusty than the Exact- O knives. Inside the rolled up leather were some of the belts I made with some belt buckles, my old ‘lucky’ necklace I had to leave behind, some balls of yarn with both knitting needles and crochet hooks, and a baseball. Next to the leather was an old stuffed horse from when I was little but before I finished going deeper into the memories and gifts I ran it straight up to my room and laid it on my bed. Maybe the old memories would help me fall asleep like it did when I was younger.
When I got back to the box I noticed that lining the bottom were some of my old books I would read to pass the time when I had writers block. Since I had no TV and wouldn’t pay for internet those books would be read yet again. The only time I could use the internet was posting weekly posts at an internet café. I was always happy when Mom sent more books because the price of books was going up and my bookshelves collected more dust than they did books.
The books she sent were at the bottom of the box, so I sadly had to start looking at my other mail. I had four bills, and a letter from an old friend telling me about her life and asking me how mine was going. Hopefully I would be able to send both my mom and my friend good news. The other five letters were from book companies, and that was never a good sign. I remembered the logo of the first four company letters because I had sent samples to them of my writings so I was eager to see what they thought. They all said they liked my books but they didn’t want to print any like that. I tacked their rejection letters on the wall with all of the others.
The last piece of mail came from a company that I hadn’t sent anything to yet. I opened it, then I looked at the bottom to see who it was from, and was surprised. It was signed by the Senior Editor.
I am the lead editor here at Running Free Publishing Company. I found your blog when I was on the internet recently. I liked the pieces I saw and when I read that you also wrote books I wanted to see what you wrote. I showed it to an agent here and he said that he would give you a contract for your first five books to be published as soon as possible. Please send us at a minimum of five titles and descriptions of your books, of your choice, and if you are able to, a sample of the manuscript from each. If they are still in the works you can just send us a title and a brief description and we will be fine with that while we wait. I do not wish to rush your creative mind, but please send it to us as soon as possible.
I jumped and cheered! I was so excited that someone was interested in my work. I could not believe he sent a personal letter, not just something he sent to everyone. He was even the Senior Editor, not just anybody! “Yes!” I screamed. Then I realized I actually had to pick five books. After I cleaned up my coffee cup mess from earlier, I grabbed my computer, a new coffee cup full of coffee and got to work.
“Hello Mr. Franklin,
Thank you for this contract. It is a blessing. I have a couple of books that are finished and I have others that are still in the works. Here is the list. I hope you like them.
1. God’s Blanket of Love: A Lesson Learned from a Dream
This is a book a stories. It starts off with a dream that I had multiple times and I finally wrote it down. Then I wrote descriptions about different things I noticed in the dream, each time going further in-depth than the one before. The last story is about the lesson I learned from the dream.
2. Stories from Verbious
Stories from Verbious is a collection of letters to the people on Earth from a person from Verbious, the land of the griffins. The person is a traveler who is the only one from her home planet to have traveled to Earth. The more letters she writes to the Earthlings, the more they want to visit. She says that could not land on her planet because they do not have any runways on Verbious like they do Earth. The other problem is that no one on Verbious believes that there is such a planet as Earth. They do not understand why a planet with myths about griffins would let them go extinct.
3. Still Nameless
Still Nameless is actually the name of the book. The two main characters in the book are Tommy and River. Both of them like to explore and got stuck together in a magical castle during a rainstorm. While the two are stuck in the castle they learn more about themselves, about themselves, and about each other. While they get to know each other they begin to fall in love. Even though River has many stories to tell Tommy about her family, friends, and where she’s from, Tommy doesn’t. Or at least he doesn’t tell his story to River until the end.
4. The Story of the Blizzard that Shut Down the Roads but Opened Our Minds
This story is about the time when our church was doing “Cabin Night” the night that the so-called “Snow Storm of the Century” blew into town. It shut down the roads but that wasn’t our only problem. We had nearly 200 kids that needed to go to sleep, and we needed to do something to get their minds off of the fact that Mommy wasn’t coming to get them yet. I had it! Why not tell a story that they come up with? I started off with a skeleton of a fairy tale and they told me what it was all about. And they were asleep before the end.
5. Short Stories from the Mind of CraftyAggie
This is a compilation of all of the short stories that I have written in chronicle format. They take a peek at what was going on in my head at certain points in my life. Although not a journal, it is like one in a way. It is almost like I have written out my thoughts and put them in order so you can nearly see what was happening to me without needing an exact detailing of my life.
Thank you again”
Writing Prompt # 626 from:
1,000 Creative Writing Prompts: Ideas for Blogs, Scripts, Stories and More
“A publisher has absolutely fallen in love with your writing. He says that any five books that you wish to publish are guaranteed (with a large advance). What are the five books that you choose: titles and descriptions? Talk about how you decide to write the five “dream” books.”