This week I received notice
that one large project and one smaller one is not going to be published by the
presses where they were submitted.
At first, I felt numb. Then I traveled back in time to a familiar place, my childhood. After I turned nine, my parents were both troubled and preoccupied by health
issues. Much of what I accomplished at school and in the creative
arts was overlooked or minimized. At the time, my only sibling criticized my drawings,
compositions, and poetry. She said, “How babyish and silly.”
