Wherein I Take the Lead (for once)

--By Shirlee
Here is a fact about the three sisters who write – I am not the leader of the pack.

Here is another fact – I did lead the way into this writing thing.

I am, as you may have gathered from on-line bios, the second of five children born to this lovely couple:

Of the five, I was known as the quiet one, the bookworm, the timid fearful child. I wasn’t keen on school, hated being the center of attention and always counted on my older sister to lead the way into new situations. Truth be told, I still get anxious about new situations.  I still hate to be the center of attention. Look who is hiding behind the sign in this photo:

And, can you even find me in this one?

At writing conferences, I am the one who goes incognito. No name tag proclaiming my published status (much to my editors’ horror). No bookmarks. No business cards.

I’m a bit of a failure at self-promoting, because I seriously would rather not talk about my accomplishments. Ask me about my kids, my husband, my family, my dear Ms. Marge, and I would barrage you with an encyclopedia of information.

Ask about me, and well....

I am a homebody. I enjoy peaceful evenings with cups of tea and good books. I like to be with those I love the most, and I am always just a little leery when meeting strangers for the first time.

Not that anyone remains a stranger for long.

I do love people. I am, I suppose, an introvert with some extrovert tendencies.

What I am not and never have been is a leader.

Somehow, though, I led the way in this writing thing.

When I think about that, it seems oddly out of character and, yet, strangely predictable. Mary Ellen and Sara are, after all, multi-talented. Mary Ellen is a fantastic artist. Sara is a gifted pianist. They were both, in their own ways, popular and outgoing in school. Sara was a good student. Mary Ellen was always in the midst of a group of friends.

I was a loner, preferring my books to other kids my age. Truth be told, all I have ever been good at is words. I love the way they feel as I type them.  I love the pictures they paint, the rhythm and flow of them. Words on paper are my music, my art. Through them, I am able to make sense of a world that often seems nonsensical. You may call me an odd duck, if you’d like. I am. When I was a kid, I was even odder. Quirky and a little strange, I would sit quietly and listen as the world moved around me.  I don’t think I said more than five words my first three years of elementary school. I’d talk while I was at home, but not out in public. I never volunteered an answer, never raised my hand and had very few friends.

What I had were books and a family and a home where I was made to feel as if being me was just exactly good enough.

That is a powerful thing. It has served me well. I think when I write, I give a little of that acceptance back. My books, both the Love Inspired Suspense and the Kensington sweet romance, all have a common theme – the importance of family, of connection and of love.

And, so I have written about those things, completing manuscript after manuscript while Mary Ellen, Sara and I talked about the writing dream.  I had, you see, fulfilled mine. I was published. I had grabbed the golden ring, and I was holding on tight.

But, here is the truth. When it comes to dreams and goals and accomplishments, there is nothing better than seeing someone you love achieve something they have longed for. There is nothing more fulfilling than cheering someone on and then seeing all their hard work and effort and angst and struggles bear beautiful fruit.  

Nothing.

I have always been so happy and thrilled to be published, but I wanted desperately for my sisters to have what they wanted. That contract in their hands, that dream fulfilled, that goal met.

When Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense began running contests in an effort to find new authors, I knew it was a golden opportunity. To get your work in front of an editor’s eyes…that is a foot in the door. I was bound and determined that they would both do it.

For that brief moment in time, I became the leader, the prodder, the one saying, “you can do this.”

Sara was the first. I casually mentioned the contest to her and casually insisted mentioned that she should enter.

Sara is younger than me by quite a few years. Seeing as how I changed her diapers when she was a baby, fed her bottles and treated her like a little princess, she wasn't too hard to convince.

Her writing speaks for itself. She didn't need me to show her how to do what she already did well. She just needed a little shove in the right direction.

I gave it.

One of the best days of my life was when she got The Call. You would think with all the words I'd collected over the  years, I'd have a word for that feeling. The closest I can come to it is joy.

After she sold, Mary Ellen was a piece of cake.

"Do you want to be the odd man out?" I asked. "How will you feel when Sara's book is on the shelf and you're still working on a manuscript? You'll be mad at yourself if you don't do this. This is your time, your opportunity."

She wrote her very first manuscript ever in about two months. With each stage of the contest that she passed through (request for synopsis, request for chapters, request for full), she had my words and Sara's ringing in her ears - Do not let this opportunity pass you by or we will forever remind you that you did. Finish the manuscript.

And, she did.

The day she got The Call?

Wow!

Just....wow!

The three of us in this together.

If I could, I'd convince our other sister to join us. Beth isn't keen on writing, but I may give it a shot anyway.

First her. Then our brother Jonathan.

Why not make it a family thing? 5 Siblings Write. I kind of like the sound of that!

Mary Ellen (holding our cousin), Beth, me,
Jonathan, Sara and cousin Erin