Today's Reading

"I know you can't tell with this podium in front of me." Tessa patted the air with her palms to settle the crowd. "But my feet are not touching the ground. I am absolutely floating, floating with joy and appreciation, and with surprise, I must say, at all that's happened. And it has happened because of you. Thank you."

Her speech flew by; her desire to be a writer since she was a child, the love-at-first-sight meeting with her husband, Henry, her business career, her renunciation of corporate pressures, her devotion to her family, and then, at midlife, stepping into the world of fiction.

"And I loved being a mom, and still do, but when I had a good idea for a novel..." She went on, telling the familiar and reassuring story. Creating the confident and inspirational Annabelle, with her search for happiness and her search for justice, her insistence on equality, and her resistance to the patriarchy. It had been a lark when Tessa started the book, almost a personal rewriting of her own professional history, but then Annabelle had taken on a life of her own.

"Sometimes," she said, "and I've heard other authors say this, too, it feels as if I'm simply transcribing what Annabelle says. That it's not me, Tessa, writing it, but me channeling Annabelle onto the page. It's almost magic, there's no other way to explain it. So. Enough of me yammering. Who has a question?"

The hands shot up. Tessa pointed to a woman in the back, black jacket, long braided hair.

"Yes?"

The woman stood, clutching her book. "Do you, like, literally hear Annabelle's voice?"

Someone always asked this. And if they only knew how true it was. Annabelle did talk to her, like a supportive older sister. There was no actual magic to it, she knew it was simply her subconscious, her writer brain, the clear and present voice of her imagination.

"Yes, funnily enough, I do. Annabelle's voice was very distinct as I began to write the book, almost as if she had wanted her story to be told."

Got that right, Annabelle said.

Tessa paused, knowing the audience could never understand the depth of her connection to the character in her head. The voice of Annabelle. She'd heard it first when she was a child—and realized it was her own particular way of coping with stress and pressure. "Annabelle" offered guidance. Confidence. And grace. A way for Tessa to be her own best friend. She chose another raised hand. "Yes?"

"That's so cool about Annabelle's voice. I saw you, live, on Moms with Dreams, when you walked out on that job. How'd you have the courage to do it?"

"Oh, you've felt it, I'm sure, that inner voice saying you're doing the right thing?" Tessa nodded, remembering. "And thank you for being with me at that pivotal time. I was a corporate trainer, even before Kid One and Kid Two. I traveled constantly, taught classes in productivity and team-work. It was—rewarding, sometimes, but the rest of the time it was soul-crushing. Still, it had health insurance. You all know about balancing that deal, right?"

"We sure do," someone said.

"But that day—I'm not sure it was as much courage as it was—well, one last straw. We'd been in a meeting, and I'd presented what I thought was a terrific idea. And not one person seemed to notice I had spoken. No one reacted. Until ten minutes later, when some guy presented exactly the same idea, and everyone applauded how genius he was. I felt—invisible. I remember thinking I could go rob a bank, and no one would notice, because I was 'so' invisible. You know?"

"Totally!"

"Every day!"

"And then I was assigned to 'help' on the project. And fix his mistakes!"

"No way."

"Yup. But I was lucky," Tessa went on. "My husband had taken a new job, and I knew we could handle it financially, and I was missing the kids so much, and sometimes—you gotta do what you gotta do."

"One life!" someone called out.

"Exactly." Tessa pointed to her, emphasizing. "And I was lucky enough to be able to reclaim mine. And you know I'm still on Moms with Dreams, because you all are my sisters. We all have dreams. And only one life. So. Who else has a question?"

"Yes, you certainly have been lucky. So far. As an adult." The woman who stood was elegantly thin, her hair expensively casual. "But let me ask. Many successful authors say they had terrible childhoods. Traumatic. Did you? Were you 'lucky' as a teenager, too?"

Uh-oh, Annabelle said.

What our readers think...