Once upon a time, there was a very little girl who didn’t play with dolls and imagine princes but did have a dream.
One day, she went up to the attic and made a desk out of a pile of books and an old tray with flat edges. At the top of that desk, she carefully centered a very sharp pencil and an eraser. In the middle, she put a small stack of thin green paper, used in those days for carbon copies of letters. After all this was done, she sat down at the desk, picked up the pencil and placed the point on the paper where she drew squiggles and wavy lines because she didn’t yet know how to write. But she was happy. For just those few minutes, she could pretend to do what she most dreamed of doing. She was writing a story….
Fast forward 55 years.
The little girl, no longer small and now with graying hair, checked her email. One of those emails was from Poisoned Pen Press. Her first book had just been accepted for publication.
Who says fairy tales never become real?