Vanity thy name is . . . Sarah?
Poor God. He’s forever having to teach me humility. And I’m forever bowing up on Him. I blame my parents. Dad taught me to have plenty of self-esteem, to be confident, to feel good about who I am. He told me I was beautiful and smart and successful (still does). My mom was supportive, but a touch more realistic when I was a kid. Now she’s my biggest fan by far. I know–what a curse!
The problem is, I fail and I do silly things and, ahem, look like crap on occasion. So last night, when I got second place in the best, unpublished novel category at the Blue Ridge Autumn in the Mountains Novelist Retreat I was feeling pretty good about myself. You know, not quite as good as if I’d won first place, but clearly my parents are right. Smart AND beautiful.
Then I found the photos of the awards ceremony posted on Facebook by author Deborah Raney. Eek. My husband told me to wear my hair down. And I should have raised my chin and my nose crinkles when I smile big and in comparison to adorable, petite Yvonne Lehman I’m a hulk and . . . egad I’m vain!
So here I am folks, not necessarily at my headshot best. But look, I’m grinning. I’m standing next to a lovely lady who has written more than 50 books and is incredibly generous in sharing her time, talents and wisdom. And I’m getting a dose of writerly validation. You know, maybe that picture’s not so bad after all . . .
Thank you God, for not giving up on me.