What is the difference between a dream and a wish? To paraphrase Harry Nilsson lyrics in his “The Puppy Song”...
“But dreams are nothing more than wishes
And a wish's just a dream you wish to come true
Dreams are nothing more than wishes you wish will come true...”
So how do you "make your dreams and wishes happen?" Do you shout out about them to everyone you know in order to spur you forward in achieving those dreams and making those wishes come true?
Do you, perhaps simply "put your *wish/dream* out there" and then let it gestate on its own and hope it will come to fruition?
Or do you, like me, go silent, afraid that if you verbalize it, it will vanish into thin air, or be tainted in some inexplicable way? Do you fear that the very verbalization of your dream is enough to put the cob-wash on it? I mean who else, but me, would be such a wimp? ;-)
For many years I have had this dream. This goal, this *wish*, this *dream* to have one of my stories published and 'out there' before a certain birthday.
When it happened, and THE BRAT, published by The Wild Rose Press in October 2010, and I quit "happy dancing" all over the place, I reset my goal/dream/wish and vowed to have another one published, no not before that same birthday, by now it was so close I didn't believe it could be achieved - Oh me of little faith! Because it happened; and DUTY CALLS, was published by Black Opal Books, in February 2011. Not only did my second novel come out before my next birthday, but my first Valentine novella, THE WRONG TARGET, published by eTreasures came out days before my second book and so also released before my birthday. Three books published before my next birthday!
And then, for the first time, I discovered I had a "twelve-month plan" in front of me. That said; you have to understand, plans and I do not normally make good bed-fellows! Those plans usually take a hike when they discover who made them!
Not this time!
So could I wish, dream upon another dream and make it five within the coming twelve months?
Those wishes and dreams just kept on coming. And all the while I maintained my policy of silence. :-)
The British royal wedding in 2011 inspired my next story, FROM NOW UNTIL FOREVER, published by Astraea Press in December 2011. I assumed this would be a stand-alone story when I wrote it, and until after publication had no reason to believe otherwise; and then a secondary character demanded his own story and FROM NOW UNTIL FOREVER became the first in a four book series. Henri's Valentine story, HIS CHOSEN BRIDE, released on the 14th February 2012, also by Astraea Press, completed my first attempt at long-term 'dreaming/wishes'. I have five stories published before this fast approaching, and significant, birthday number.
“But dreams are nothing more than wishes
And a wish's just a dream you wish to come true”
This time my dreams and my wishes melded and became one in their reality. I no longer have to wish for those dreams to come true. They already have and I still have time to anticipate my next birthday.
So, I've achieved my dream, what next?
Now I have plenty more and new dreams. I have two more Gasquet Princes' stories to tell to complete the series, and an experimental Regency to finalize to mention just a few of my newest dreams that I wish to become reality.
Dreams that are nothing more than wishes I wish will come true.
Blurb for FROM NOW UNTIL FOREVER:
For Prince Liam, families meant bad news, unwanted commitments, and the loss of his personal freedom. Love spawned white picket fences, slippers at the hearth with a wife and kids making demands, so why did those images disappear when he met Melanie Babcot?
Melanie Babcot fought hard to escape the horrors of her youth and vowed to remain single and free, so when paid to protect Prince Liam from insurgents why did her personal pledge fly out the window?
FROM NOW UNTIL FOREVER Excerpt:
Liam Fitzwilliam Gasquet stared in amazement at the blooming patch of red milliseconds before the pain exploded in his arm. Some trigger-happy idiot had fired in his direction. Indignation didn’t have time to take root before another bullet kicked the dust at his feet. Not ‘trigger-happy’. Intentional. The rebels had found the fourth and youngest son of Jean-Phillipe Gasquet, ruler of the tiny kingdom adjacent to the Swiss border. When had they discovered his whereabouts? With a reluctant sigh, he faced the truth of it. They hadn’t ‘found’ him at all. They’d followed him.
Barnes and Noble:
Blurb for HIS CHOSEN BRIDE:
Prince Henri Gasquet is happy to let his father, the king, choose his bride for him until he meets Monica Latimer.
Monica Latimer is not prepared to risk letting any man close enough to learn about her Gift. A gift that normally has men running for the hills when they find out about it.
HIS CHOSEN BRIDE Excerpt:
She lost track of time until the flames caught her attention once more. They flickered from orange to gold, to silver, to white.
A flurry of snowflakes masked the flames and for a second Monica watched the most beautiful, pristine snow-scene she’d ever seen. Her lips curved in longing. How she’d love to get a toboggan and slide down that slope. She knew where it was, and had done just that many times in her childhood, first with her parents and then, in clandestine manner, with her brother. Sneaking an old tin tray from the back of her mother’s walk-in pantry, she’d then grabbed Billy’s hand and they’d rushed out the back gate, heading for the lakeside track that led up into the hills.
Darkness, dense and thick with grief dropped over the scene. Startled and disconcerted by the strength of emotion emanating from the vision Monica shifted to her knees, ready to stand, when a voice, a deep male voice, sharp with fear called out her name. “Monica!”
She knew she’d never heard the voice before, and yet—it was as familiar to her as the image she saw in her mirror each morning.
“Help me, Monica.”
Desperate for more clues, she searched the darkness within the flames until it sputtered and faded. With a curse she jumped up and ran for the phone. With her outstretched hand hovering over it she halted and let her hand drop to her side once more. What could she say? What would the police or rescue team think of her if she called them and told them she’d seen a vision of a man in distress?
They’d laugh in her face and classify her as a lunatic. Well, maybe not. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d contacted them with positive information but something—an instinctive gut reaction told her what she’d seen this time hadn’t happened yet.
Multi-published author, Sherry Gloag is a transplanted Scot now living in the beautiful coastal countryside of Norfolk, England. She considers the surrounding countryside as extension of her own garden, to which she escapes when she needs "thinking time" and solitude to work out the plots for her next novel. While out walking she enjoys talking to her characters, as long as there are no other walkers close by.
Apart from writing, Sherry enjoys gardening, walking, reading and cheerfully admits her books tend to take over most of the shelf and floor space in her workroom-cum-office. She also finds crystal craft work therapeutic. You can find Sherry on the web at these places:
Sherry, thank you so much for sharing your wishes and dreams with us today. Here's wishing you continued success with your writing.
Thanks for stopping by! And while you're here, why not surf over to our team blog, Sweethearts of the West at
http://sweetheartsofthewest.blogspot.com Normally, I post there on the 26th of each month, but due to my earlier goof, my friend Elysa Hendricks is posting in my place this month. Please stop by if you can.