Success Is Relative

I began dreaming of being an author when I was just a kid. I’m pretty sure that dream was somewhere between being crowned Miss USA and touring the country with my cousin, Deb, as half of the singing sensation known as The Dixie Darlins. I gave up on being Miss USA when I realized my cousin couldn’t sing with me during the talent competition, and the dream of the Dixie Darlins died when I figured out half of a singing sensation should actually be able to sing (I’m talking about me, Deb, not you.). I almost gave up on becoming an author because it took thirty years for it to happen. Most likely it would have never happened had success for me not been relative.

I wrote my first novel when I had a baby on a hip and a four year old reminding me it was almost time for Blues Clues. It was nothing more than an attempt at preserving my own sanity. I wrote my second novel while saying goodbye to my terminally ill father and a marriage. And I wrote my third novel while suffering being the mother of a teenager and the daughter of a mother who kept telling me I was NOT the boss of her! During the most challenging times of my life, writing has always been a way to hold on to something I do purely for myself.

My third novel was released yesterday. As excited as I was, there wasn’t much time to relish that particular success. The PS3 went on the blink, so the teenager curled up into a fetal position and began whimpering. The 9 yr old asked if he could have a dozen buddies over for a sleepover, and my mother told me to bite her when I mentioned diet cola was listed nowhere on the nutritional pyramid. I went to my brother looking for solace in enduring the struggles of facing life in my household, only to be told at least I did not have to deal with me.

As a result of my relatives, I am well into my fourth novel. Any success I have achieved is strictly a result of them driving me slowly but surely closer to the edge of insanity. I suppose my success in realizing a dream being relative to the people in my life I love, but sometimes want to escape from, could be considered balance in the cosmos. Were it not for my relatives, I might not have achieved a dream three times over. And it is because of them I am sure a means of escape will continue to help me realize my dreams. Even if I’m not Miss USA or half of the singing sensation known as The Dixie Darlins.