Goals and Parakeets

I’ve always been a goal-oriented person. I’d decide on what that goal was, and go after it with a fierce, blinding determination. Granted, some of that came from not thinking things through long enough—I tend to do things the hard way.

When I was five years old I lived with my grandparents in Florida and I decided I wanted my very own parakeet. At the time there were parakeets flying around wild. Since I had no money to go to a pet store and buy one, I decided to catch myself a pet. I took an extra birdcage from my grandparents’ garage, put bird seed in the bottom of the cage to attract my future pet, and held onto a string tied to the door from a ways a way so when the bird few in, I'd let go of the string and have the pet of my dreams. Nanny was all for it—what bright adult wouldn’t be? I’m sure my grandmother thought it was one hell of a fine way to keep me out of her hair for a few hours. I was a bit of a precocious kid. What she, my mother, and the neighbors didn’t expect was for me to sit out there for three days, only going in when ordered to eat and sleep. On the fourth day, I must have dozed off in my chair, and when I awoke, there was a baby bird in my cage. I was so ecstatic, I called him Happy. It never occurred to me that this bird was way too young to fly, heck, he didn’t even have many feathers. Happy was so young, we ended up having to crush his bird seed, wet it down, and spoon feed him every few hours. Many years later I learned the neighbor, who had a nest of parakeets in his backyard birdhouse, took pity on me. He snatched Happy from the nest, and put him in the cage while I slept.

When I decided I wanted to be a published author, I jumped in with both feet. There’s no sticking in a big toe to test the water with me. No, I race, blindly sometimes, to that goal and trust everything will work out. After all, I’ve been told I have enough sheer will for ten people. But I’ve learned sheer will is not enough, although I don’t think it’s possible to get published and stay published without it. What I didn’t know I needed was support.

When I told my husband I wanted to write toward publication, when I stated my goal—something he’d been encouraging me to do for a while, the first thing he said was that since I had two full-time jobs (writing and taking care of the kids) and he only had one (working to pay the bills) that he’d take over the laundry and cleaning. I know, I’m really, really lucky! Together we sped toward my/our goal, making our three kids team players. I thought I had everything I needed until the first day I walked into an RWA Chapter’s sponsored event and met other writers—writers who asked me what I was working on, who took an interest in someone bound and determined to move forward despite not knowing which direction to take. Some of whom became my dearest of friends. These are the friends who gently steer me in the right direction when they think I’ve gone off course. They are friends who are there to bolster my confidence when it slips into the depths of bad reviews or writer's block. They’re the friends who listen to me whine and tell me that my work doesn’t suck when it doesn’t, and that it does suck when it’s warranted. Oh yeah, and those friends don’t just stop with writing. No, they’ve become a huge part of the rest of my life too.

I realized that without those friends like my old neighbor who waited until my back was turned and stuck a baby parakeet in my cage, I would never have achieved my goal. My writing friends have put metaphoric parakeets in my cage I didn’t recognize for years later, and some I might never find out about, but when it comes right down to it, I’m grateful for every phone call asking me how I’m doing, every time they give me the gentle push to do better.

The other night after a long, hard writing session, I was outside with my dog, looking up into the stars and counting my blessings. I’ve achieved another goal, I sold a new series to NAL and I know I didn’t achieve it alone. I’m grateful and I thank God every day for my family and for my family of writers. Like I said before, I’m very, very lucky.