Tuesday, May 15, 2018

The Story Of How The Tale Of MerryMaid Scarlette Rose Came To Be- Part 1

Hello darlings,

How are you? I hope you're doing well.
Perhaps pour yourself a cup of tea and let's chat, shall we? My choice of tea for today is lavender and rose, just in case you wanted to know that{smile}.
 Today I thought I'd begin my little tale of how my storybook The Tale Of MerryMaid Scarlette Rose® came to be.

I'd also like to share with you some of the details. I think personally I love hearing the little-sorted increments of how other authors/illustrators created their dear gems.
I was marinating several things over the weekend in preparation to begin this series and it dawned on me how very much I am not privy to write or make things about myself. As I've worked on my business, author campaign, this blog, and putting myself out into the world as an author and illustrator I've realized how uncomfortable it has made me, it has been an adjustment for sure. I've never had particulars be about me per se, and it's taking some getting used to.

I have long been a writer. As a little girl, I've been creating little stories as far back as I can recall. I was the little red-head that wore long dresses and had pen pals in elementary school. My mother made sure I was fully equipped with writing utensils at all times. I even went many years in middle and high school where I wore a pencil in my hair because I was constantly jotting or sketching things.

In my about page you've read that I have loved Beatrix Potter since childhood. It's true... I also read the stories to my children all throughout their lives as well. There was something I found calming and charming about the stories. Honestly, they don't have a daunting amount of depth to them, and perhaps that's the adoring appeal. A story that's light-hearted but with also a bit of whimsy. Now that my friends is my cup of tea! I should like to stay determined to always live life with rose colored glasses on. I think that's the allure of children's fairytales, they take us to places in our imagination where dreaming is allowed, actually preferred.
After my divorce was final, and I was couch surfing at my parents, living out of my two suitcases, I had also brought my little palette of paints, 2 Walmart brushes, a pencil and an eraser. To this day, I keep them in my purse. They have become a bit of a comfort to me, like a lovely old familiar friend.

While I was married I had become so conditioned out of my belief in myself, having turned down a four-year art scholarship, and having put away painting for so long I had forgotten I could even draw much less paint.

I was in such a state of pain while going through my divorce, missing my children madly, and feeling like everyone was trying to tell me what they thought I should do, I took up walking. I would walk to the nearest waterhole where I'd dream and sketch.


I figured that if all the years of me telling my children that there is nothing they cannot be and that dreams do come true, I might take my own advice.

It takes a little time to actually gather one's style. I looked at the paintings of my favorite watercolorists and took some ideas from them and then kept reworking my images to look the way I liked. My paintings have an old world look to them, but also a look of solemn seriousness, and that pretty much describes me to a T. My painting style is very much my own. I am nowhere near where I desire to be, but I have learned not to ever wait on things. I have realized, I must be a doer, not a talker.


Nowadays, I'm not afraid to start anything. I go head first, even though I know I'll get lots of air bubbles and rise to the top over and over again, and I don't care one single bit. That's the only way we learn is to keep diving back into the water. That's what losing everything has taught me, to be fearless. Once you've literally lost everything, no one can take anything from you, not your dreams and especially not your talents. If you take nothing from this post but that, I feel I've done my job.

After setting up my new facebook page and new social media platforms, I tried to continuously put out little motivational sayings and quotes to inspire others, and I'll be completely honest, I did it for myself mostly at first. I was having to be my own cheerleader, so I needed all the positivity and happiness I could conjure up.

As time went on people would respond to some of my posts and say that I should write a story. I had never told anyone that I had longed to write stories since I was a little girl, so I took the compliments in stride. Throughout the next year, I started thinking, yeah I should write a book. I'd then set the dream aside because when I mentioned it to a few friends they actually weren't super supportive to me. They said things like, "You have to get a publishing company, how are you planning to do that? It's not easy to write books and actually have them sell, your art isn't good enough yet for a book. etc."

I was still so low in my self-worth journey at the time that I would become so frustrated at my struggles and say in my mind to hell with it. I knew deeply though that if I had enough faith I could probably do it, I let those thoughts marinate in my soul and began to dream about being an author but not telling anyone verbally anymore. They seemed to dampen my spirits and I just got plain sick and tired of it.  I have had decades of lacking self-confidence to weed through and build back up and it became daunting to think about a book. I'd once again lay the idea aside because to some degree I felt like it was out of reach. Once again, a running theme is that I'd listen to other people tell me I wasn't capable, and I listened to them.

Fast forward to about 6 months later and I'm once again suggested a video from Gary Vaynerchuk. Something he said that day made a light go off in my head and I haven't looked back since.
If you have ever seen Gary's videos, he straight up and has no quorums about telling it like it is. I had seen him about 3 years prior and immediately turned him off because, to be honest, I thought that he was an arrogant ass. Actually, he rubbed me majorly the wrong way. Today I know why this is. I had a victim mentality, and never in a million years would I have pegged myself for being a victim. In the back of my mind, I had an attitude of entitlement. The day I recognized this about myself was like the blinders fell from my eyes. I haven't been the same since and It's been the best gift that man, a stranger... has ever given me. I should like to shake his hand one day and thank him personally for setting me a foot on my journey as a children's published author.

To be cont'd...

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