The moose is my writer’s symbol, and here’s why.

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A few years ago, with the advent of new eBook and print on demand publishers, I published 2 novels within months of each other, fulfilling my dream of publication. But fame did not prevail, and the stress of publicity along with self-promotion was more than I could bear. I overextended myself mentally, physically and financially as I worked full time, started a new business with my husband, and continued pursuit of my dream.

An emotionally draining job left little energy to continue writing when it seemed my writing career wasn’t going to take off. Plus, I felt I had to keep it secret from my boss and thus separate from my life. This made it hard to keep it a part of my life at all. I was discouraged with my publisher and the publishing world in general (especially eBooks—I wanted to break out commercially). I thought about giving up many times. I prayed and ranted to God, wondering why He would put this dream in my heart if I was never going to be successful. Mere publication wasn’t, IMO, success. I wanted more.

I finished my third novel, yet couldn’t get it published, even though I stopped trying as hard. I once envisioned this wonderful book signing event where I would feature a moose, which was a huge symbol in my book, and I told myself if I ever published this story, I would have to find me a stuffed moose. I already had the image of him in my head and how I would take him along with me on my book signings. This stuffed moose was almost like a character in my book. I imagined him many times.

After a year of having my third story written and about 40 rejections later, and many months of an on again, off again relationship with writing, I was ready to give up, or at least “give myself a break without beating myself up”. I cancelled my website (I was having problems with the webhost anyway) and I thought about doing away with everything related to my writing.

One day during my lunch break, I went to a gift shop with a (non-writing) friend of mine and there, sitting on the shelf, was the moose—almost exactly as I had pictured him in my story and in my dreams. Just one moose, for sale, amongst many other items. One moose in a gift shop in a Texas town that barely experiences winter, much less moose. Deer are prevalent, but not moose. I didn’t buy him, but kept looking and thinking about him. I told my husband about him because it was so close to Christmas I thought if my husband bought him, fine, but if not, then it wasn’t meant to be.

The next morning, I was reading my “writer’s devotional” (Julia Cameron’s Finding Water). It was the very last chapter and, I thought, my last hurrah with writing for a while. If I decided to take it up again, fine, but it wouldn’t be that important to me. I had way too many other things to worry about and I was just one person. Whether or not I published another book was obviously not going to make an impact on anyone else, so why should I let it impact me?

No matter what, it would always impact me. Writing is my passion, and nothing could change that. In this devotional, Julia spoke of a writer’s symbol. She explained why it was so important to have a symbol that means something to you and your writing (whether it’s a bracelet, necklace, etc). I knew then that I had to go back and get that moose. It was my symbol, calling out to me. I knew it when I saw it, yet I kept trying to ignore it and push it out of my mind. When I went back to the store, the owner’s little girl said, “Finally someone is buying that moose. He has been staring at me all this time.” This was affirmation that this moose was my sign.

If I hadn’t read that chapter the very next day, I might have ignored the moose (though I hadn’t been able to get it out of my mind since I saw it the day before). Reading that chapter was like I had been sucker-punched. If I ignored that message, then I had no one to blame but myself.

I’ve learned a lot of things along the way during my writer adventure. I write for myself now, even though sharing it with others makes a writer feel like they’ve accomplished something. I don’t want fame, and the publishing world is ever changing. Publication does equal success, because I am following my dream. I will never hide who I truly am or let anyone take that part of me away. My moose sits along beside me as I continue to write. He is my writer’s symbol, a reminder that I am heading down the right path no matter how difficult the journey.

The moose Reagan finds in Burn on the Western Slope is also a symbol, and she finds something else special about him, later. Here’s an excerpt of Reagan with her cousin, Naomi, when she first finds the the moose:

Burn on the Western Slope

She stopped at the French doors and shifted the heavy drapes to look outside, but the darkness only revealed her reflection. Moving aside, she rubbed her nose against the moose’s furry forehead.

“What are you doing?” Naomi asked as she entered the room, startling Reagan.

Reagan kept her back to Naomi. “Meeting Dr. Till.”

“Doctor who?”

“Dr. Till,” Reagan replied as she held up the moose. The name had just come to her, and it sounded right. Naomi would think she was crazy, but he felt like a sign to her. He represented the physical metaphor of her insecurities. “He was sitting here atop the bed, all propped up as if waiting for me,” she explained. “He’s my doctor until I get my head back on straight.”

“Reagan darling, no stuffed animal will help you get your head on straight.”

“I beg to differ. He’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?”

“That I’m doing the right thing.”

“Of course you’re doing the right thing. Was there ever any doubt?”