I’m sitting here with my morning cup of coffee, grateful that it does not have a lid.  That means I am not rushing off to work, drinking coffee in the car and in my room at school before the kids come rushing in off the buses and from the car rider lines.  Don’t get me wrong; I love my job.  The kids lift me up and show me true joy every single day. But I appreciate the days when I have time to linger over my coffee, computer in my lap, writing or reading or connecting in some way to the writer’s world.

Writing is coming hard these days, but I know why.  It is time to set my babies free, the stories that are written and done, but I must give them a good start in the world, just as I am working to give my sons the best entre into adulthood that I can.  For my books it is now good editing and good covers, and a launch into the world with enough fanfare to bring them readers; for that is why a story exists–to be read and shared and absorbed into the collective conscience.

I don’t very often pray for myself.  I have been so blessed in my life, that I feel guilty asking God for anything else.  He can say to me with good reason, “Leave some blessings for somebody else.”  And so I ask for things, good things, happy things, comforting things, for those that I love, that I know, or even that I don’t know.  But in this I am asking for my stories.  A writer’s prayer.

Please, God, set my story free.–Give it wings to fly away from me into the lives of others and bring them joy.– Teach me what I have to know to give it the best possible start in this world, and to make it enticing to readers so that they may meet my characters and know them as I do.–Bless this, my humble offering to the world, and let it bring respite to those who need an entertaining distraction from the trials of their days.

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