Barracks Road epiphany
This is a story about discovering human goodness on a winter day when I felt knee-deep in human crankiness.
I write for a living. Or, at least I used to earn a living by writing. My medical articles kept rice and beans on the table while my husband went to school. However, once he found a job, I switched to writing fiction and my income plummeted.
One Monday morning years ago, a keen urgency overcame me: justify my existence by bringing in hard, cold cash — or change professions. So, I decided to prepare four packages to send to potential publishers.
That day, my 2-year-old, Ian, didn’t have pre-school. So, I had to entertain him while I worked. First, I let Ian play with his big brother’s intricately constructed Lego rocket ship while I wrote four different query letters. Then, I allowed him to watch his Babysong video for the 1,257th time as I picked sample chapters to go with each letter. At the end of the tape, I handed him a black felt-tip pen and yellow legal pad. I warned him to stay away from the dining room wallpaper and hoped for the best.