Three years ago, I saw the dress. The shape, the colours, the style, all so perfect. I turned to the Mother and said “That’s it. That’s the dress.” Mother looked at me confused so I had to explain further. “That is the dress I shall wear to my book launch event.” Mother looked equally confused so I had to explain further. “I haven’t written the book yet but when it is published, there will be an event and I shall wear that dress.”
Is anyone else a total dreamer? I have such a clear picture in my head of where/what/who I want to be, to the point that I can tell you which dress I will be wearing. The problem is sometimes I get distracted from the dream and lose my way. Actually, it is more than just sometimes. It is my day to day struggle.
The dress was in LK Bennett and it had a price tag to go with the label so it was not a nothing decision. I was also 6 months pregnant so not really in dress trying on mode. I walked on and left the dress behind.
A year later, the mother and I were walking through town pushing a small person in a pram. The topic came onto what I was going to do with my life – something any mother of a dreamer like me has to ask from time to time. I had had a really rough year and was definitely in one of my supremely lost points. Just as I started to explain that I had lost my plan a bit, I saw the dress again. My book launch dress. In LK Bennett, in my size, in the sale. I bought the dress.
I started to write a story about an amazing pony when I was 13 years old during an entrance exam for St Helens and St Katherine’s school in Abingdon. At 15 years old, Pie came into my life and I soon realised he was the pony I was writing about. I am now 32 and still have the story, unfinished on my computer. I also have some images that a talented friend drew to go with the book.
So, I have the idea and I have the dress. Why can’t I write the book?
I can write the book. I have written it, deleted it, written it again so many times. But it is something so important and perfect to me that I find it hard to do. Some may call it procrastination but it is far more complicated than that. It is almost too important to me.
Writing this book has meant that my tax return is done on time, my office is spotless, my makeup bag is organised, my paper work is all filed, my pencils are all sharpened… you understand.
Two years later and the dress is still in the bag in the bottom of my cupboard. Any advice? Anyone else been where I am with something that is almost too important to just do? Wise words welcome.