Dear Ravi,
Yesterday marks 18 months since you left us. I celebrated your life at a writing workshop. It was an amazing experience. I got to meet so many other writers and we all shared our notes and thoughts on the speakers, our work, and life in general. I did my very first pitch to an agent! I was so nervous. I had practiced what I wanted to say for a solid week and somehow the words came out right. The agent said that my pitch was rock solid and your story was compelling. The only problem was that her genre is non-fiction but not memoir. She was very encouraging. I did not get a hit, but I am chalking this up to just being a good practice run. When encouraged, I shared my pitch with several published writers who all said that your story needed to be told and they wanted to learn more. Ravi, you are not forgotten. You live on in the stories that I share with people
There were some good takeaways from yesterday. I am rewriting my letter of query, for the third or fourth time. I am still honing my craft and editing my main body of work. I have avenues to find new agents. All in all, it was a very successful day. I am glad that I went and intend to attend more conferences in the future. There are also options to attend and pitch online, which I will do this summer. I had absolutely no idea that there were so many writing genres, some that I had never heard of.
It started to thunder early this morning and the dogs, especially Raya had to tell me about it. I had hoped to sleep in as yesterday drained all of my energy. No luck. That is okay, I fed the dogs, gave Raya an empty peanut butter jar to work on, fixed coffee and got to work. I do my best work early in the morning, I had just not planned on getting up quite so early today! After the rain passes, I am meeting a friend for a walk. We both have pent up emotions and anxieties to let go off. I call this taking my demons for a walk.
So, my Houdini-esq young man with a penchant for loud colorful socks, jaunty chapeaus, Subway sandwiches, Swedish fish and sour patch kids, I think you were well represented yesterday. Other writers heard your story and want to hear more. You may be far from my arms, but you are forever in my heart. Your story will live on in the memories of people who loved you and the word that I write about you. I see you in the birds in my garden and in the early morning sunrise. You are not far from me, I just can’t see you, except in my mind’s eye. For now, that will have to be enough. I love you forever. Mom.
Harriet's Hedgehogs and Autism Advocacy 