Can you believe it is August?

After finally catching up with last quarter’s book keeping, I am two months in arrears again. Each moon cycle is full.  As time speeds up, my capacity for multi tasking seems ever more inadequate. Two years ago, I was able to complete several eNews in one month.  Now, there is little time or inclination to send out email. Facebook has certainly changed the mode of communication, and now with one click of the mouse, I can reach several thousand people.  This definitely has advantages, but there is a price tag hanging on my home page wall called time.

In one place I can keep track of most friends, learn about intriguing events and up to the minute news.  Red boxes keep me informed of friend requests and personal messages. People from around the globe leave comments on my home page. Likewise, there are people I like to follow and I am assuming by the messages I get, there are those who are keeping tabs on me.

A few months back I entered a book contest, primarily as motivation to finish the last round of edits on my manuscript. However, what I received was support from around the world. The book, The Shaman Chef: My Life and Other Recipes has made it to the top 1% of the contest.  Originally, over 2,500 people from around the globe submitted a pitch to be considered.  By popular vote, the second round was narrowed to the top 250 vote recipients.  Then, in round three, we were required to submit a book proposal to garner more votes. All my years of networking paid off, and I jumped to round three.  Everywhere I go, people tell me that they voted for me.  I am deeply honored and grateful for your vote.

Now comes the honing component writers know so well, the endless hours working on the rewrite. In the beginning, I was naive, and thought telling the story was enough.    The first draft was the compost; all my garbage was put into the pile and churned until it turned to mulch.   Last summer, after three years and more healing, I approached the book again. My fantasy of becoming a writer came true.  Then I froze for nearly a year. The contest, like an eight cylinder engine, propelled the writing process. Then the brakes slammed, jolting me backwards when the editor told me I had two choices, either pay her to make me look good or learn to write.  Piles of books touch the lampshade on the bed stand.  Each morning I write, and in the evening I read, learning about the craft.

At last, the book is taking form.  Round three begins in two short weeks. This time I will not need your votes, but I will ask for your support.  A note about my contest:  The dinner party for eight will be drawn upon my final round. Hopefully, the winner will be celebrating my published book. If you voted and did not enter the contest, please send an email to Renee@deserthealingarts, with dinner party for eight in the subject line.

This summer has been quiet and a time for inner reflection.  I’ve learned that a writer’s life is a solitary one, but I have been overwhelmed by your support as I pursue my dream and have seen the power of community in achieving goals.  In the words of Joseph Campbell “ Follow your Bliss” , and take time daily to help others do the same.  In this way, I am certain, we can all achieve our dreams.

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