Fielding Dreams

As a kid, I watched “Field of Dreams” and felt the magic. I saw a man plow his Iowa cornfield to make room for the impossible. As a grown-up writer, the film still resonates. I recently had a dream come true: I signed with an incredible literary agent, Natalie Lakosil of Bradford Literary Agency.

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Rowboat

I am going to tell you something that I haven’t told very many people…

I recently had one of those trusted conversations. The “not many people know this” dialogue is precious. I realized, after we got off the phone, the moment of hearing my dear friend say “I want to tell you something…” prompted so many emotions. I was simultaneously excited, nervous, hopeful and full of love for my friend. In that millisecond I worried, “Oh no, I hope I react the right way.”

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Glass

All but the shattered glass was a blur. My morning’s promise of journaling and cozy coffee was replaced with a dangerous mess—a sharp awakening. Unavoidable. My elbow dinged the French press as I grabbed my vitamins. No matter how careful, these fragile coffee makers eventually break. Don’t they?

I pedaled backwards and slid on sandals. I remembered my parents in broken glass situations, their diligence to keep us safe. “We don’t want your little feet anywhere near this until it’s cleaned up.” As kids you are vanquished to the next room. Protected. As the only adult, I handled that morning’s mishap and experienced a mixed moment of remembering and realization.

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Scarf Juggle

On a Christmas break, I visited my college boyfriend and his family in Oregon. He made sure I experienced ALL that his state had to offer. At a Duck’s basketball game, they had a special halftime competition that still makes me smile!

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The Parrot by Author Gayleen Rabakukk

Leaving a doctor’s appointment, I noticed a police officer walking along behind an emerald bird about six inches tall.

I paused.

I recognized the bird as a Monk parrot. More than a dozen years ago I’d had one as a pet and had read articles about feral colonies of these brilliant-colored birds living in Austin. Was this an escaped pet or the descendant of one who traded its cage for freedom?

“Have you tried to pick it up?” I asked the policeman.

“No, but you’re welcome to give it a shot.”

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Joy Thief

“Hey, I am going to steal your wallet now. See. I have my hands on it. Watch me take it.” —Said no robber ever.

It’s almost funny to think about, because it doesn’t happen. I thought about an announced robbery when I read these words, “Comparison is truly the thief of joy.” A student included them in a letter through Letters About Literature, a program where students write to authors about how their books made a personal impact.


With those words, I remembered our house being robbed...

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Balloon Out Love

In Galveston, I had a quirky tour guide with flowing blonde hair and sunglasses at night. He was off topic more than he was on and I didn’t mind. I was along for the ride, listening to his stories until the last stop. “Valentines Day: every woman’s favorite holiday. Am I right, men?” He elaborated on how women like to feel loved “yadda yadda yadda.” I don’t remember; I’d stopped listening. His glance returned to me, expecting more smiles and nodding. I shot him a stone face. He corrected, “Well maybe not all women.”

I wanted to jump in and explain that Valentine’s IS one of my favorite holidays, but not for the reasons you assume, Sir! I wanted to tell him the story about my dad and the balloons!

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