There comes a moment in every new writer’s life when merely talking about writing gives way to doing.
Excuses are tossed aside, fears are faced, and the plunge is taken. The wanna-be becomes the will-be.
If you have not yet reached this point—if you spend far more time thinking about being a writer than actually working on the craft itself—we’d like to offer one simple, heartfelt suggestion:
Get yourself a copy of When Moon Fell Down, the debut picture book by the late Linda Smith.
Smith, of Bedford, Texas, died in 2001 of breast cancer. She was 41, and the mother of eight. Those who know her say her cancer was misdiagnosed; a doctor told her the lump in her breast was due to an infection from breastfeeding.
She had no insurance, and did not qualify for government assistance until it was too late. She spent her final months trying to navigate the miasma of the public health system.
Although Linda’s plight was widely circulated within the children’s book community—she was a popular member of several Internet groups and known for her generous advice and delicious wit—it wasn’t until I had her book in my hands that I felt the enormity of Linda’s talent.
Or the depth of her spirit.
When Moon Fell Down, beautifully illustrated by Kathryn Brown, tells the story of a winsome moon who falls to Earth one evening. Moon delights in an array of discoveries, even falls in love with a blinking sign. An excerpt:
The rye smelled sweet,
The night winds whirled,
Circling Moon in a misty wreath,
And he beamed in awe
At this wondrous world—
The stars above and earth beneath.
Lilting rhythms, poetic text, a voice that feels both fresh and classic…this is a book that can take your breath away.
Alix Reid, Linda’s editor at HarperCollins, called it the finest picture book she’s ever worked on. She will publish six more of Linda’s books (including two novels) over the next few years.
It is every writer’s dream to hold in their finished book in their hands, to smell its new pages, to see his or her name on the cover. Linda Smith never got that pleasure.
At one point, while undergoing chemotherapy, she dictated words to her husband for a story called Mrs. Biddlebox. It’s about a woman having such a rotten day, she decides to make a cake of out it and eat it.
The story ends:
On a knotty little hill,
In a cozy little heap,
Mrs. Biddlebox rolled over,
Closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
Linda Smith faced fears few of us even want to think about. She took the plunge often—in writing, in life. Her courage was an equal to her creativity.
Although it is too late to chat with her online, to hear her laugh, or to see her flash her trademark smile, Linda’s spirit is alive in the pages of her seven books.
Find them. Read them. Let the words and rhythms seep into your soul.
Inspiration can’t be too far behind.
