By Marie F Martin,
For several weeks, I’ve been watching my seven-year-old great grandson worry, wiggle, and pester a bottom loose front tooth. It has slowly gone through the processes of germination, like a flower seed trying to burst forth and reveal new growth. Kind of like a story in the thinking process of a writer. Last evening, Brycen was driving us nuts fussing with that tooth. Finally, I said to him, Why don’t you have your Mom tie a string around it and tie the other end to the door knob and slam the door hard. His face lit up like I had said words of magic. His looked at me and grinned. We got out the kitchen twine.
After several times tying it around the tooth and slamming the door only to have the twine slip off the tooth, we decided it was too big. Brycen laughed and I cringed with each slam. Back to square one. Yarn was not strong enough. I finally thought of a spool of button thread somewhere in the scores of spools I have saved. The search was on with little heads bent over two boxes pulling out many colors of sewing thread until at last we found the strong, thin, fit-around-a-baby-tooth thread. Shannon carefully tied it to the tooth. She asked Brycen, You want me to just yank it out? Good Grief. His bright blue eyes grew big, but he nodded. She quick jerked. Out came the tooth. He didn’t cry. I screamed. The top of a strong permanent tooth is barely visible but there.
I think this is a prefect analogy of the birth of a book.