Ah…. summer! When it began I looked forward to the bright expanse of time stretching out before me. I would travel, clean, work out, write, make fantastic and exotic new dishes each and every evening for dinner, and pick up yoga…. Two months later… been there, done that…(well, except yoga) but the big plan was to write my memoir. After all, this was the Summer of the Memoir.
I *did* write a children’s book. The idea struck me on a plane ride to Atlanta in an “Egad- By-George-I’ve-Got-It!” sort of way. It’s about a kangaroo and I dare say, it’s good! But, as good as it may or may not be, I havent the slightest clue how to publish it.
Besides, the memoir was the plan… To publish it I must submit two chapters, a detailed outline of the book, the potential market, books addressing the market and the uniqueness of my book, find an agent willing to promote me who will then find a publisher willing to publish me…phew…
Clearly, I’m very well informed on the matter, maybe because the project is so dear to my heart, the thought of rejection petrifies me. Unfortunately, with 6 + billion people someone else might have my same idea. Two weeks ago as I browsed Barnes and Nobles I came across a teaching memoir published TWO years ago….. I held the book and felt: (fill in the blank)
Still… I believe my story should be told. Don’t stories of being caught outdoors with a tornado a mile away with 25 students more concerned with grabbing flying papers than rushing to safety, and going on lockdown because a prison inmate is playing hide and go seek with the cops right behind my window make for an interesting read?