I have a confession. My name isn't really Morgan Xavier. You see, when I started this blog, I wasn't keen on using my real name, especially since it is kind of boring and most people can't seem to pronounce it, anyway. I tried to think of a pen name--and if I ever get the chance to be published, I am going to BEG for a pen name--but nothing seemed cool enough, so I ended up using the name of the main character in my novel. She is actually based on me (which annoyed my husband when he read the first few chapters of my rough draft, but he's a bit of a literary snob, and NOTHING can measure up to the great Tolkien, and besides an affinity for mushrooms, I don't quite resemble anything hobbit-like) so it wasn't a far stretch. Thus, I became Morgan Xavier. But I would like to share my real name with you, since I feel that I at least owe you all that much.Ahem. I am really just Lisa. So there you have it. Oh, and another small confession. That picture of me is at least seven years old. I just really like it. And it really fits this post because it was taken back when I was the confused and naive girl that Morgan is based of off. Plus, my hair was really cool back then. Now it just sits and gets frizzier every day, forgetting that it used to have zest and body and curly goodness. Sigh.
So now that I've introduced the REAL me, I will share a bit of what I am facing in my life right now, because it seems that I am in the middle of quite the transition period, and quite frankly, it terrifies me. I am 28, going on two and a half years of marriage, a little plumper than I am comfortable with (another reason I showed you that old picture), newly pregnant, and about to be laid off from my job of four years. All in all, I am at the beginning of a new chapter in my life, and if I wasn't so nauseous and exhausted from morning sickness, I would probably be more excited.
My husband and I are ecstatic that we are going to be having our first child (ok, he's ecstatic, I'm a little grumpy and bloated), and we spend hours talking about our future, and our dreams and aspirations for our family. The thing is, we are both artists at heart, lacking any sort of formal education, and as our family expands, we are trying to be realistic in our goals. My hubby is a wonderfully talented singer-songwriter by night, and an apprentice signmaker by day. He dreams of being paid to do what he loves, but knows that the music industry is one tough cookie. Likewise, I have spent years trying to find my niche, first as a missionary, then a foster care worker, then as a drywaller, then a student, until I landed my current job as an assistant at an x-ray clinic. All the while, my dreams simmered under the surface, begging to be released, but I never believed that writing was something I was truly capable of. It was my hubby that encouraged me to try, and so here I am, a couple years into my goal, a manuscript in the works, and no idea of what I will do when my maternity/EI runs out.
I wonder if getting laid off from the clinic is actually a blessing in disguise. Sure, it means that money is going to be really tight for the next year or so, but now I will actually have TIME...that precious commodity that will allow me to write and follow through on my goal. I don't want to bank on winning the jackpot by writing that super-awesome novel that will land me a brand new career as a published author, but it is sure nice to dream, isn't it? I'm trying to be positive and see my impending layoff as a chance for something better instead of panicking and wondering what the heck I am going to do next. So I take it one day at a time, keeping my dreams and goals firmly in mind, finding a balance between being realistic and optimistic. Maybe writing will only ever be a hobby. The roles of wife, mom, and friend seem fulfilling enough to me. And if I finish my novel, only to have it sit in a drawer, unwanted by any agent or publisher, I will still feel a deep sense of accomplishment knowing that I reached my goal.
So, with five out of twenty chapters written, I look with delight towards this fall season, hoping that as my belly begins to expand, so will the pages of my novel. And as Morgan embarks on an amazing journey, so will I. Though her adventure is filled with monsters and magic and rave-loving fairies, the latter of which, I kind of wish were real.
