Margot of the Stars

In the beginning of March, I spent a weekend away minus my boys. A first since Margot’s birth.  When my head hit the pillow that night, a complete children’s book jogged loose.  Or really, appeared from nowhere like the Velveteen Rabbit from a hat. Text and illustrations, just there.  Which is weird because I don’t write books, let alone illustrate them, let alone have the motivation to do any of that nonsense. However, this manuscript became relentless enough that I had to get up in search of a pen. But the unfamiliar room yielded no writing utensils and my persistence wavered. (See: The aforementioned aversion to motivation.) So, I lay back down, fully expecting the words to vanish -in the way of most dreams- by daylight.

Instead I awoke the next morning, an unprompted title on my tongue: Margot of the Stars.  The text followed in quick succession, almost penning itself in less than an hour.  It was disconcerting to say the least, considering I had zero intention or inclination to write a children's book. But, as a friend told me later, it seemed my daughter had decided otherwise. 

Over the next weeks, I felt her strong presence as I painstakingly replicated the images from that revelatory March evening.  Nurturing the book's development became a labor of love for my daughter.  The action of creating it fueled our connection because it was narrated from HER viewpoint: Exploring and confirming the strong love and bond a starborn baby had (and still has!) for her faraway earth family.

So as woo-woo as it might sound, that’s why I’ve fully embraced the idea of Margot being my ghostwriter (angel author?) for this story.  Her voice gives me hope and strength. Because what I need most, besides my precious girl in my arms, is the knowledge that -from somewhere beautiful and safe- she is loving and missing me too.

I hope you enjoy our book.