Last week my husband and I trekked to Grand Island, Neb., to attend the state fair. Little did we know that day would end with a ride inside a police cruiser.
No, we did not do anything wrong. In fact, the policeman took pity on us. Let me explain.
Every year my husband and I travel to Grand Island so I can sell my novels at the Nebraska Writers Guild booth. Authors take turns selling their books and in exchange we tell attendees (interested in writing) of the benefits of joining the guild.
I always park at a certain place when we attend. However, when you sell your wares, you have to bring your own books. My husband and I had two luggage bags. I pulled one and he the other. As we were making our long walk to the 4-H/FFA building, a fair volunteer, who drove a golf cart, approached us. “Would you like a ride?”
“Yes,” we answered. We both gave a large sigh of relief. It was a long ways to that building and her assistance was a Godsend. However, who would know that this action would later cause us a lot of grief.
How you ask? The simple answer is one word, b e a r i n g s.
I lost my bearings. If we had walked, I would have remembered landmarks to get us to the right entrance/exit gates. But since I did not, we ended up at the wrong exit.
A group of policemen were directing drivers into a parking lot. I yelled at one of the officers, asking if the road in front of us was Stollely Street. He came over to us and pointed toward a street at least a mile from where we stood. He looked us over, seeing our luggage. “That’s a long walk,” he finally said.
I could not believe we had walked around a host of fair exhibits and buildings only to travel in the wrong direction. I was dumbfounded. I could not even come up with the side street where we parked until the officer uttered the name, Roush Street. “That’s where we parked.”
He left and in a few minutes returned with his police cruiser. We got in. He joked, “You won’t be able to kiss in here.” He was right as my husband slide into the tiny space between the plastic glass and the door. If you never have been inside a police vehicle (which we had not), do not itch to do so if you are overweight because you will be squashed. The policeman opened the door for me. I sat down beside my husband, and yes there was no way to kiss with Plexiglas dividing us. However, who would be in the mood when you were riding in a police car?
The officer drove us to our car and helped unload our bags and place them into my vehicle. We shook his hand in gratitude for taking pity on a couple of stupid idiots.
However, this got me thinking about writers, and how we too can lose our bearings. We forget to focus on our next undertaking and not fret about a past mistake or pet project, which did not do as well as expected.
As literary agents will tell you, what is the next hottest story type in publishing? Is it a paranormal, a graphic romance trilogy or what? Answer is no one knows. If they cannot figure it out, how can you? Thus, the best thing to do is to move on with your next idea, leave the past behind you and do not give up.
Experts say the worst mistake many authors make is to give up after weeks or months of disappointing sales. What about the movie, “Wizard of Oz?” Did you know it flopped in theaters at the time? What revived this enduring classic? When it ran on television screens years later so your work also could be that sleeper. My hope, though, it does not take decades for you to achieve that success.
So keep your powder dry, get involved in your next venture and do not worry about the past. And as always I will end with a God bless.