Into the Fire

outlier: n. 1.A portion of anything that exists or lies apart from the main body or system to which it belongs

I interviewed for my first job at the barn of a respected trainer on the backstretch at Longacres Racetrack in a mini-dress, high heels, and two-shaded octagonal sunglasses. It's safe to say I appeared as an outlier. For a reason known only to God, the boss's daughter hired me and told me to come back in a week. Of course when I returned, I wore Levis, a flannel shirt, and work boots. Then I looked the part but was racetrack green (and that's not in reference to any facet of the environment). I threw my heart and soul into learning the various parts of caring for and training the magnificent Thoroughbreds, and, although this city girl didn't quite fit in with the racetrack natives, I persevered to gain my place in the racing scene.

I attended a few writing conferences after finishing seven novels. Having self-published three of those, you could still say I'm an outlier. Not quite fitting into the publishing industry. With several published author friends I'm still well out on the periphery of the biz and will probably remain here.

Not the most comfortable place to reside and not sure why I seem to occupy the fringe of places I want to be, it creates an observation level that reveals viewpoints not easily visualized from an insider's dwelling.

I'm a people person but prefer one-on-ones to a crowded bunch. Intimate conversations that take time to develop and reveal heart situations rather than small talk which reveals little. Private moments rich with emotion instead of silliness and canned laughter. Gut-level insights over repetitious responses and platitudes.

In my own skin . . .

Father, you made me. Help me to keep being made into the one you designed me to be. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.