Changing Faces

[Claudette Young]

Whenever I sign in to any of my chosen websites, a sea of faces greet me. some new and some familiar, but always I ask, "Who are these people really?"

I can sit on some, for instance, and talk to no one, post nothing, just watch the goings on. I never have tiime to get bored with that. It's fascinating to watch the interactions and the ebb and flow of contacts taking place. I ask myself questions about these colleagues in the industry. What did they have for lunch? How many children do they have? Have they read this new book or that? But above all, I ask myself whether they have gained by being on that site today.

We writers talk to each other as often, it seems, as sparks fly from open fires. We gravitate toward each other using our own deep sense of purpose, whether we're conscious of it or not. We value each other and carry pride in one another's achievements. How many other professions can say that and truly mean it?

We cheer for successes and mourn the rejections as if they were our own. We get excited at someone else's possible book deal and celebrate with them online when it comes to fruition. In truth we are a breed apart, in our attitudes about ambition, competition, and what constitutes satisfaction in the workplace.

Would that everyone could find that quality to their own jobs and professions. Not many ever do, I think, except those who work with words, ideas, and mental images. Our media forces us to care about consequences to actions. After all, we must have that ability in order to write at all, especially for children. And yet, so many of us find less self-confidence than we deserve. Does it take someone who's been hurt to do what we do for children and do it well? I'd like to think not.

Which brings us back to changing faces. Those faces which greet us each time we sign in to our sites soon become our family in many cases; kiindred spirits who understand the angst and the celebration on a project complete and ready for launch. We have a never ending sea of faces which move in and out through the communities of writers online. Throw in the illustrators and the mix gets even headier.

I'm glad to have come to this place where words have more meaning than to act as birdie litter in a cage bottom. People here think about influences and consequences. That's where I must be for happiness.

So, writers, raise a glass of your favorite beverage and toast yourselves. You deserve the recognition and the praise for having the fortitude to remain in the job you've chosen or which has chosen you. I salute all of you.

Claudette