Wishful Dreaming

I have ideas for children’s books, a bunch of them. But it seems like it’s almost impossible for me to execute. When I sit down to write it, I can start but never finish. I have a lot of trouble seeing things through. I get excited about something, start and then, wah wah. It goes nowhere. Just an idea on a page, no development or end in sight. I have one book idea that I really love about a hummingbird. I kind of love hummingbirds. I have feeders and flowers in our backyard that attract them. There’s one that comes everyday, multiple times a day. There’s something magical about them. So small and can move with such sharp precision, up and down, left and right, their wings fluttering 100 miles a minute. They’re so sweet looking but are actually very territorial and shew off other hummingbirds that come by.

So I thought a children’s book about them is a good idea because I haven’t seen a children’s book about a hummingbird. So I’ve written out different ideas about the plot. Numerous possibilities about the character and where the story goes. I can’t seem to figure it out. I guess I’m hoping for a lightbulb moment, that aha that will make it all make sense. But it doesn’t come. So there they remain, words on a page, waiting. I guess the same could be said for dreams we hold for ourselves. They sit there and wait. They wait for us to discover them and explore them. They wait for us to uncover them. They wait. They never go away. They don’t give up on us even after we’ve given up on them. We forget. Until the time comes when we long for them again. Like a friend or a memory we’ve forgotten about until now.

I’m here! They say to us. I missed you. And I’m so happy you’re back. Where did you go?

I was lost, you reply. I forgot about you. I’m sorry.

Oh, don’t be sorry, your dream says. I knew you’d remember me and come back.

How did you know? you ask.

Because you’re my dream come true.