You may have seen on my Facebook page that I've entered my first Chesney Creek novel, All of These Secrets, in a "cinemagraphic novel contest". They're looking for unpublished or small-circulation novels that could be turned into a Hollywood movie.
It's an Exact Match for my Dearest Dream and Sweetest Fantasy!
I've been imagining this for years, fantasizing lunch with the Director, being interviewed by the pundits, walking the red carpet (behind the Movie Stars, but still....!) I've even gone so far as to tell a few trusted friends about this fantasy of mine, and how it could happen:
"First," I tell them, "First, I have to finish the #4 novel and find an agent who is willing to take it on. She or he will find a really hot publisher who will throw all sorts of money at marketing it, and the rest of the series. Then some Hollywood-type who is looking for a new project will discover my work and voila...! A movie contract! Fame and Fortune! Glory and ...."
It's just a fantasy. Fantasies are fun. And who knows, anything can happen, even miracles!
I found the Contest, I entered the Contest.
The rug, that red carpet of fantasy
has been jerked from under my feet.
The little voice in my head is whispering so softly that I can't even hear it, "Fat chance sundance! No way your pissy little novel is going to win. Get a fluffin' grip." I can't hear it, but I can feel the effect. It's pushed me straight into the old familiar pit of Despair, Discouragement and Hopelessness. That's how the trap works: First, you're waltzing along on the red carpet, la-la-la. You feel Fantastic, so you do something bold and unusual - you enter a contest. BLAM! The rug's gone, you're falling, SPLAT!
All of which is true, but here's what I know: If I let my unruly mind moan along like, I'm almost assuredly going to attract NOT WINNING. I get that. I know it's how the world works: We get more of whatever we focus on.
Focus on what makes me feel good, attract more to feel good about.
And the corollary, au contrarire:
Focus on what makes me feel like ****,
Elaine H (for Hannah) MacDonald is a fiction writer, grandmother, mother, homemaker, gardener, baker, seamstress and more, not necessarily in that order. She lives on Vancouver Island off the west coast of Canada.