If you're anything like me, sometimes you feel like the world is against you and that nothing you do seems to get anywhere or have any value. So and so's books are better placed than mine; my current manuscript is giving me trouble, I didn't earn enough money. I complain because I have to get up early, or it's too cold outside, or, damn it, we don't have any good snacks at home.
Then something happens that puts it all into perspective: the earthquake in Japan and the resulting tsunami.
I'd like to think I would maintain my dignity in the face of such catastrophe, but how do I know? I've been through earthquakes when I lived in California. Nothing like the one they experienced in Japan. I've never been hit with snow enough to bury me for days, no tornadoes, no wars (that I've personally been in--not talking about the one that we're in now that no one is expected to sacrifice for except those actually fighting).
My parents escaped from Hungary after the revolution there. They lived through the bombings of WWII. Me? My life is cushy. And I am grateful for that.
Someone has found my work worthy--I have been published. I have a job. I have a bed to sleep in that my early alarm clock disturbs me from. I have a warm house to escape the cold, and frankly, I don't need those snacks (Twenty-five pounds more to go).
I like cushy and I am grateful for it.
To those suffering right now, those we hear about and don't: well, I doubt you're reading this right now, but my heart and sympathy are with you.
Books I'm reading now:
Dark Moon Defender by Sharon Shinn
Bridge to Happiness by Jill Barnett