Yes, those are violins you hear in the background, and they do play for me alone. Alas, they were not sent by a bold lover as a gesture of courtship. They did not come with delivery of a dozen pincherry trees. (Because I’ve never been one for cut flowers when a berry-yielding tree can be bought for the same price.) They do not play Vivaldi.
That is to say, my cold is still wreaking havoc and it’s all I can do to refrain from whining. What better time to recap a few treasures I discovered this week that penetrated my glooming doom?
1. Many of us dream that we’ll write something to earn the admiration of an agent, then editor, then a reading public. If/when that happens, I think it would be hard to top this welcome-to-your-publishing home letter, penned to Kim Richardson by her new editor, Ms. Price. I defy you to read it and then not be sniffly.
Congratulations, Kim! You fought long and hard for your dream, and if there were ever a person more deserving of this letter, I can’t imagine who it would be.
2. This link’s courtesy of Donna Cummings, and already has a place in my sidebar under my “Hope” section. I don’t recall seeing a more consistent column about the spiritual aspect of writing. Book mark it for a rainy day.
3. Last, a Youtube video. As said in the comments, if a person believes in heaven, this is probably what it sounds like.