Happy Monday from Jeanette. Today I walked into one of the 2nd grade classrooms at my youngest son’s school and handed the teacher a stack of books that I’d just finished spiral-binding.
“I’ll let you make the announcement,” Miss Anne whispered. She got her class’s attention.
Before I could say a word a little girl named Myra squealed, “Our books!”
“That’s right. You’re authors!”
The King’s Academy 2nd graders had worked hard for weeks on stories about a dog named Ace (inspired by Miss Anne’s dog who gained fame when he had to have his tail amputated—long story), based on what they learned when I taught a writing workshop. We’d promised to collect their stories and bind them in a book. And now the day had arrived. Their books were ready, hot off the copied-and-bound-in-the-church-office press! I don’t know who was more excited, the kids or me.
I watched Miss Anne pass the books around, eager hands reaching out. As each child received a copy of The Adventures of Ace they flipped through to find their page. What a moment! If I hadn’t been field day I would have suggested a lunchtime book signing!
An hour or so later I had another cool moment that only a writer could appreciate when I watched my oldest son sign his first contract for an article that he wrote and had accepted—his first submission and his first acceptance. He acted so unaffected as he filled in his SS#, name, date, and signature and slipped it into the envelope. Of course I stood back beaming but trying to hide it, knowing that if I made too big a deal he would say something like, “Mom, if you’re going to act this way every time I get something accepted, I’m never writing again.” But deep down I wanted to hug him and cry and jump up and down and make a total idiot of myself. His first contract was headed to the mailbox! I know he was equally as pumped; my son is just too laid back to show it.
Both of these experiences reminded me how fun it is to encourage the next generation of writers. After all, as much as we hate to think about it, we won’t always be around. Someday, instead of our books and articles, readers will pick up someone else’s . . . perhaps my son’s or stories written by one of the 2nd graders from King’s Academy. What a privilege it is to share the thrills, not knowing where God will take those little ones who contributed to The Adventures of Ace.
Who knows, one or two of them could be a future CAN member!