I'm Susanne Dobbin Christian writer and blogger

Welcome to my first blog. I hope that you will enjoy the content and please feel free to contact me with suggestions.

Here is a short story I wrote:

Navigating The Writing Contest

Huzzah! A writing contest! Confidence seeped out of every pore as I set sail on a calm ocean of aquamarine hues disappearing into blue skies ahead. My hands, adept at metaphors and similes, joyfully painting pictures for readers to imagine. Scarcely had a thought entered my mind when I was toying with the words on the page, trying them first one way then another, until it sounded as it looked in my mind.

No interruption was welcomed except that of the whistling kettle. In the kitchen, I dropped a casually selected tea bag into a mug and drowned it in boiling water. The cup, my largest, ensured I would not have to leave my captain’s chair again for a long while.

Hours of blissful enjoyment ensued, basking in the full sun of the day. Nothing to hear but the rhythmic sound of waves hitting the side of the boat, or rather the clicking of keys on the computer. However, nothing perfect ever lasts and the inevitable happened. The seas became choppy so I gritted my teeth and strained to meet the challenge. Struggling to find the proper words, I found the picture looked flat. It was time to man the oars while I edited my work. This dreaded stage was always painful as some of my best statements were thrown overboard to lighten the load. Other phrases were added to balance the cargo. But gradually the paper was finished in its three-dimensional glory and so it was time to raise the mainsail again.

My masterpiece complete, I bathed in the glow reflecting off the screen as the room dimmed in the sunset. I danced on the deck of dreamed triumph, assured of my ship’s success. My finger need only to press one key and my work was off to navigate the waters of the contest.

Sending off the composition was like sending my child off sailing on their own for the first time. I watched from shore until it was out of sight and then I imagined it surrounded by hundreds of other boats, jockeying for position in the race until they come back into view and the winner declared.

Second guessing my entry, I paced and worried, until the day finally arrived. Reading the announcement, I slumped over the keys, the wind knocked out of my sails. There would be no steering the helm into a victory lap. My hopes were smashed against the rocks by the rough waves of the ocean of other competitors. My meager dinghy diminutive beside the yachts in the regatta. I thought I could write but after reading the winning stories, I was humbled and understood I was in grade school surrounded by a sea of university graduates, masters and PhDs, the lot.

The dream of writing was evaporating in the steam of the whistling kettle. Heavy legs dragged me reluctantly to the kitchen stove and I poured the water over the tea bag. The hot liquid was my consolation prize. Closing my eyes, a tear slipped down my puffy cheeks as I gripped the chipped linoleum counter. How could I have been so delusional as to believe I had a chance to write all the stories in my head?

I, like all the other romantics who think they have a book inside, which never come to fruition, constantly writing everything that pops into our heads, rewriting and editing ad nauseum, am rejected again. In fact, rebuff comes so often that the inevitable days of depression that follow become expected like an old torn sweater that I cannot bring myself to throw away because it is so familiar. I allowed myself to be swallowed in the whirlpool of disappointment. Not to worry, I thought. It will pass and I will write again because I must.

The recliner pulled back, my mug beside me, I turned on the laptop to play card games like all good sailors on shore leave, when the computer screen flashed an advertisement before my swollen eyes. A new writing contest announced. Huzzah! The wallowing in self-pity adverted for another day. No time to sink into that comfortable old friend. Hoist the sails, boys, we are heading out to sea once more. Blast the rocks and waves!

I pulled my seat up to the seafaring position and set off with the blank ocean of possibilities before me.