Friday, February 11, 2011

When Things Fall on my Lap

I am a collector of great quotes.  I write them all down on a special hard cover journal.  Some of the quotes had fallen on my lap when I least expected it and some shared to me by friends or family.  There was one instance, five months ago, right on my birthday when all the celebrating was done and over,  I sought the quietness of my bedroom.  Feet tucked under me, I sat on the small couch,  the table lamp curiously casting a glow over my shoulder and onto the book I just opened to read. On the first page, I was given the most amazing gift.  It said:

"All life belongs to you, [young novelist] and do not listen either to those who would shut you up into the corners of it and tell you that it is only here and there that art inhabits, or to those who would persuade you that this heavenly messenger wings her way outside of life altogether, breathing a superfine air, and turning her head from the truth of things.  There is no impression of life, no manner of seeing it and feeling it, to which the plan of the novelist may not offer a place."

                                                      - Henry James
                                                        The Art of Fiction

This quote was the glowing candle on my cake of life.  A spark...the most irridescent spark a writer could ever need.  The unexpected boost to push through doubts.  I am grateful for it and  I am blessed. 

To anyone who might chance upon reading this, writer or not, who seem to be doubting what's ahead, I share this with you.  Keep plodding and believe.  

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