Cat eyes

I have a sister who loves the mystic side of things. I think these things are fun too, but have never put much stock in them. Take numerology, for example. A long time ago, when I was first married, I took a numerology test.

I came back with double ones. I still remember. That supposedly meant I was not only creative, but doubly creative. At the time, I'd just had a baby, was exhausted, felt fat and had no talents I was aware of except music, and I was only average at that.

I remember thinking how dumb my score was because I didn't scrap-book, I wasn't artsy and I had never felt any more creative than any other average joe blow. Isn't it funny what life throws at you? Maybe the numerology was correct. Maybe I am very creative. Just look at my life now. Maybe we only need time for our talents to be revealed. I think so now.

I have been reading my sequel, The Celestine Sword, because I needed to remember what happened before I could keep writing. I have a terrible memory. Anyway, as the saying goes . . . I couldn't lay it down. How is it possible that this story came from me? I am still amazed every day that these words poured from my brain. When did I become so creative? Was it always in me and I just didn't know it?

What makes some of us want to be actors, musicians or writers? What is it inside that has to come out on paper? Why do writers feel such a desperate need to tell stories and why do we want people to read them so bad? And most of the time, for very little pay?

I'm not sure what the drive is. I was talking to a lady at the post office yesterday who always asks about my book and if it's published yet. She mentioned that she would like to write a book some day. Why is it always "someday?" What is it that makes some of us actually do what others want to do someday, but never get to?

Maybe it is those double ones after all.