I wrote this post just before Christmas, but I didn’t post it because it seemed like I had so many interviews and other stuff to put up that I didn’t need another post. Now I have another blog post on Fox Hollow Publications titled “Defining Success” and they sort of go together (when you read them, just keep in mind the ‘sort of’ part). It makes complete sense if you rewind the time frame about a month.
Rock Star Hair
My neighbor styled my hair yesterday, cut and color. I used to wear my hair long out of laziness so I could just put it up in a ponytail, but short hair with color makes me look younger. She did it for my birthday, which is special since her birthday is a week after mine. I’m taking her to the movies—girls’ night out, which is somewhere up there with world peace when you’ve been stuck in the house watching the snow pile up in your driveway and forcing yourself not to hibernate because you don’t want to be turned in for neglecting your children.
She’s good at hair, fantasterrific, actually. She told me I have Rock Star Hair, thick and easy to color because it just sucks the dye right in. I’ve been told that by the tattoo artists about my skin, too. Apparently, I’m a person made for color.
My hair made my day. Made my month if you consider that today I begin the awkward phase of adjusting to marking ‘37’ on my chiropractor and massage forms. At least I’ll look good with my hair done.
My first book came out a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been a mess about it, to be honest. I would like to handle ‘fame’ with grace, but all I can think about is everything about me that doesn’t look successful. For some reason I think I’m supposed to be runway-ready at the grocery store, fashionable and ten pounds lighter. The irony is that I gained seven pounds of stress the week my book released.
Like I said, a mess. I wasn’t exaggerating. I felt like I was going through a vermin transformation like in Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis.
I’m being unfair to myself. I work out hard, I just published a book, and I’m pretty sure nobody judges me for having a head of hair that’s several weeks overdue for a trim. I didn’t get to this space until yesterday when I had my hair done. I suddenly felt human, and rational…and rock star approved.
As authors, we need to consider our definition of success. For me, I painted an image of myself as a ‘successful’ author. I haven’t based my success on book sales oddly enough, but on people looking at me and thinking, “Man, she’s got it all.” My ‘all’ grew to be a pretty long list, but I realized I do have it all. My family, my lifestyle, my friends—I just needed something to remind me of my place in the world, my blessings.
And I see it now, thanks to my friend and my Rock Star Hair.