Why is my human sitting at her desk staring at that picture and making her fingers run across those square things. They look like spiders. She talks to the moving pictures and they talk back to her. It’s not fun for me.
My first children’s book is finished. I didn’t think about it much, just wrote. Finally finished it and re-read it, then I edited it and re-read it again…you see a pattern here? Finally I decided to jump in with both feet and send it to my editor. She responded immediately with “What age group is this for?” “What?” I’d never given it a thought. I just wrote. What was I thinking writing a children’s book? What do I know about children’s books. I was hit with about twenty minutes of nail biting anxiety. Then I took a deep breath and asked myself some questions. 1. Did I enjoy writing the book? – YES 2. Am I expecting to sell a million copies? – NO 3. Why did I write the book? – Because I had a story in my head that needed to get out If nothing else, in years to come when I’m dead and gone, my daughter will be able to tell people I wrote a book about her cute little dog. Writing is an addiction, but not a bad one.
“Tess, good girl, you peed. Good girl.” Oh Lordy, of course I peed, don’t make such a fuss. Does anyone make a fuss of you when you pee? They continued to walk. “I could get used to this, it’s nice having company while I walk. Wait, what are you doing now? Oh no, dog poop.” Tess squatted a little and did what all good dogs do at least once a day. She looked up guiltily, or was she smiling. Sandra put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the special green plastic bag that was used for this purpose. She gingerly scooped up the fresh poop, tied a knot in the bag and held it at arm’s length. “Oh no Tess, its warm, let’s get rid of this now, yuk, it smells.” Tess stood still and looked up at the dangling bag of poop. Lady, I just pooped, isn’t that why we came outside?