Saturday, June 17, 2006
My truest, deepest, secretest dream (apart from my secret ambition for the luthier to become so successful that I can be kept in the lap of luxuriousness, or, of course, my other deep secret dream of spending a year living in Italy with the luthier and sons, growing fatter on pizza and gelati, and soaking up the beloved Italian art language and culture
... hmmmm, where was I , oh yes .... my dream.
It is to become a published author of children's stories.
Not long and tricky, clever tales of adventure, and puberty and being socially responsible, but silly, rhymey, poemy stories in which I can take outrageous liberties with words in an attempt at 'using 'umour'. I fancy to follow in the footsteps of Roald Dahl, Edward Lear and Spike Milligan and try to create some kind of wonderful nonsense that doesn't aim to preach or teach, but purely to amuse. (An audacious ambition indeed, considering my utter inexperience and lack of skill.)
Despite my literary shortcomings and that I have not the first idea about how to go about getting published, I am determined to try.
I can't sew neatly, I can't knit without dropping stitches, I certainly can't draw with any beauty or finesse, but I may yet add to this heavenly wave of women in the world creating beautiful things for children with a few well-placed words. Wish me luck.