Don't look too close....
ButI had my very first book
signing the other day, and I learned a few rather disturbing things about
myself. Just when I thought that after fifty-six years on this planet I'd
finally reached adulthood, I realized the state of grown-up-ness is just as
elusive now as Never-land, and Narnia were to me in my much younger days.
Inside, I am still that same little girl, standing before the mirror in my Mom's
pearls and heels, playing dress up. The same frightened child who desperately
wanted everyone to think she and her dolly were so very smart and pretty. The
passage of time doesn't really change one's life much after all. Perhaps it's a
normal response, but the entire time I was signing books, I felt guilty for
taking peoples money. I had an almost undeniable urge to give them my book for
free. Not only give it to them, but somehow bride them to like it. Perhaps
that's why I gave away pens, and fat bookmarks, who knows.
I've always thought I was a
confident, well-rounded (in more ways than just my shape) individual, so it came
as a complete surprise when I realized I was just as insecure the day of my
book-signing as I was on my very first day of kindergarten, the day I graduated
from high school, the day I became a new wife, the very first time I became a
mother, and the first day on the job as a respiratory therapist. I guess in the
end, new beginnings are always a little scary no matter how old you get. But
then, what would be the fun in new experiences if they weren't? I hope I never
get so old, or so grown up that I don't feel that stomach churning twirl of the
unexpected. ----- Maxine Mansfield <
