Sunday, September 11, 2016

Feeling Groovy 2 of 3 (short story) by Leanne Dyck

(photo by Leanne Dyck)

Part one (in brief):  Over-stressed Mara pours herself a glass of wine and tries to unwind from her hard day, but she hears a noise coming from her basement. In the basement, she watches as one of the concrete dissolves and forms a gateway into an exotic world. A bunny as her guide, Mara begins to explore this world.

Feeling Groovy (part 2)

Hand-in-hand, the bunny and I skipped up the path. I saw lollipop trees and candy floss clouds. Birds sang the familiar words, "Feeling groovy."

The music grew louder. We climbed a small hill and saw a group of people dancing to music made by a brown bear with a guitar and an orange cow with a cowbell hanging around her neck.

The bunny led me over to a woman who was leaning against a lollipop tree. Her dress was fashioned from a fabric of eye-pooping colours -- orange, yellow and green swirls. The sleeves were wide, the skirt full. Round, steel framed glasses balanced on her nose and a thin, leather band wrapped around her head. Her sun-bleached, straight hair fell to the middle of her back. I watched as she wove daises into a long chain.

The bunny seemed to exploded with joy. "She came. She came."

"Chill, dude. Don't have a cow." Her words swirled around lazily in the air until they finally landed on my eardrums. "It's all cool. Everything is groovy."

"She came. She came," he sang. "This is her. This is Mara."

The woman finished making the daisy chain. She didn't walk, she danced in a flowing spiral over to where I stood. "Far out." She slipped the chain over my head. "Welcome to my side of the wall." And I thought she said, "My name's Wendy."

But when I repeated her name, she corrected me. "No, my name's Windy -- with an 'I' Dig?"

"Dig? Dig what?" I asked.

Instead of answering me she joined the party.
Everyone had long hair. The woman wore dresses like Windy's. The guys' blue jeans were faded and their cotton shirts hung loose.

Windy's arms flew gracefully in the air like wings. Her bracelets sparkled in the sunlight. Her dress floated around her like feathers.

A few minutes later, Windy rejoined me. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Don't you like the tune?"

"Yes, I like --"

She didn't wait for me to finish my sentence. "Well, then join the happenin', man."

"No, I'm too shy." I told her.

"Mellow out." Was all she said before she returned to the party.

Maybe, here, I can dance. I closed my eyes. The music filled my body. I felt like I was flying on each note. I feel so, so groovy.

"Outta sight," I heard Windy say.

I opened my eyes, and I was dancing.

Next post:  Sunday, September 11th approximately 5 PM PST
And then-- And then-- You logged on next week to see what happened next. (I hope)

photo by Leanne Dyck

Picture Books in Canada

'Locally, nationally and internationally, Nimbus is best known and widely recognized as the premier publisher of books about Atlantic Canada.' -from their web site

photo by Leanne Dyck

Sharing my author journey...

Acceptance is so close that I can taste it. Every time I open the mailbox I expect to find it, waiting. 

I'll tear that letter open and read:  Yeah, of course we want to publish it. Are you crazy? Who won't?

I received two letters on Tuesday...

One read:  '[W]e find that it does not fit our publishing program. We wish you great success nonetheless.'
The other read:  'We are so sorry...'

Because I'm so certain of acceptance, rejection kicked me in the knee caps. It hurt and I swallowed in self pity. That song -- you know the one that goes 'It'll never happen. You're only dreaming' -- played over and over in my mind. 

I had a choice: Stay there and prove the song right. Or pick myself up and dust my self off. 

I put one foot in front of the other and continued my author journey. 

Not everyone can walk this walk. For some, the rejection is just too deeply felt. For some, the waiting is unbearable. For some, they hate feeling powerless. 

But for me -- as long as I continue to write, submit, revise and re-submit -- I know each day brings me closer to my goal. It may not happen the way I envision; it may not happen tomorrow. But it will happen. Believe.

'If you are in a moment with your work in progress that feels like a stuck moment, remember you are never truly stuck. Nothing about the writer's life is static.'