J.K. Rowling and Me

Like many, I have dreams and goals.

Twelve years ago I told my husband in a movie theater that I wanted to write a book. By verbalizing my intent, I’d set myself in motion. A year later, I typed ‘The End’. Then I thought, Kim, you’re crazy and I put it in a drawer.

But I kept writing. I finished another manuscript the following year and shoved that one on top of my first. And so on, until finally I wrote my fourth story and decided I would share it and see what happened. That was in May, 2014.

Currently, I have two published novels and I’m writing another one when I’m not working at my part-time job or screaming my head off at a hockey or lacrosse game. I was feeling pretty good about myself.

Until I read an article about how J.K. Rowling’s writing chair sold for – wait for it –  $394,ooo.

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Through a thick haze of humility, I compared myself to Rowling. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone, least of all one of the most popular writers in this century. But how can I not? We both write books and we both sold furniture. I had been trying to sell my son’s bedroom furniture for months: armoir, dresser and a bed  -all for $600. For four months, we got nary a nibble. We lowered the price while I wondered if the prospective buyer could sense the aura of the temper tantrums still surrounding this furniture. I told my husband J.K. Rowling sold her writing chair at an auction. He said, Maybe you should tell people this is the furniture that inspired the bedroom you described in Letting Go? My answer: Let’s put it by the curb.

The parallelism of our lives does not go unnoticed by me. Rowling wrote an incredible 7-book series that swept the universe and as a result, sold a plain chair with writing on it, for almost $400k. I’m still working my day job. I couldn’t give away a whole set for $400. No writing on it. Not a scratch. (Well, okay, one tiny pen mark, but I’m sure if someone Googles how to get penmark off of wood, this will not be an issue.)

My dreams and goals are malleable and realistic. They grow and change as I do. I don’t want my writing chair (den couch) to one day draw in a crazy amount of bids. My goal right now is to sit on it longer and write more.

I have nothing but good wishes for Ms. Rowling. And I’ll try not to compare myself with her or anyone else for that matter. I am me. This is it. Rock on, me.

For those of you curious, the pieces did finally sell this past week. All for $300. And a book.

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