I don’t know why I’m writing you this letter. I’m supposed to tell you what I think you’ll need to know to get through your tween years, but, honestly, no one can tell you anything. Not even me. Remember when Mom and Dad went on that weekend getaway when you were four, and they brought back little pewter brooches for you and your sisters? Each brooch was in the shape of an animal that was supposed to represent the personality of the girl it was given to. One sister got a unicorn and the other got a bird, but you . . . you got a donkey. A donkey. That’s how stubborn you were. Still are.
So what can I possibly say that you’ll listen to? The only thing I can say—which is what you’re going to do anyway—is, keep it up. Keep being that stubborn. It’s going to make all the difference. You’re quiet and sweet, and from a very small town. People—teachers, preachers, friends, co-workers, and even perfect strangers—are going to take one look at you and that Peter Pan collar you’re wearing, and think you don’t know your own mind. That you need to take their word for what life is all about.
For a while, you try and go along with what everyone is telling you. You try and think what people want you to think and act like they want you to act. You’re going to try and do this longer and harder than you need to. This makes me sad, but I guess trying hard is all part of being stubborn. Eventually you stop. You just sit down, right where you are, and take a good long look at life as it is. Not as someone else told you it was. And guess what? . . . Nothing! I’m not going to tell you “what.” Because I would just be another person telling you how things are, instead of encouraging you to find out for yourself.
And so, little donkey, all I can say is go ahead. Put your foot down. Refuse to budge. Insist on going your own way. I’ll be right here waiting for you . . . off the beaten path. Because the path that catches your imagination and ignites your curiosity isn’t the beaten one — it’s the one “laid down in the walking.” And in the writing. For you, writing is about taking notes on what you notice when you stop and sit and refuse to budge. And what you notice is beyond belief and impossible to capture, but it’s worth giving it a try. Kind of like life.
Taking the path that’s laid down in the walking isn’t going to be easy. But the good news is that it doesn’t require you to do anything out of character. Going your own way doesn’t involve giving up being that quiet, sweet self. Turns out, real rebels wear Peter Pan collars.
Penelope is running out of time!
She dreams of being a writer, but how can she pursue her passion when her mother schedules every minute of her life? And how will she ever prove that writing is worthwhile if her mother keeps telling her to “get busy!” and “be more productive”?
Then one day, Penelope discovers a hole in her schedule–an entire day completely unplanned!–and she mysteriously falls into it. What follows is a mesmerizing journey through the Realm of Possibility where Penelope sets out to find and free the Great Moodler, the one person who may have the answers she seeks. Along the way, she must face an army of Clockworkers, battle the evil Chronos, take a daring Flight of Fancy, and save herself from the grip of time.
Brimming with clever language and masterful wordplay, The Lost Track of Time is a high-stakes adventure that will take you to a place where nothing is impossible and every minute doesn’t count–people do!
|Paige Britt grew up in a small town with her nose in a book and her head in the clouds. She studied journalism in college and theology in graduate school, but never stopped reading children’s books for life’s most important lessons. THE LOST TRACK OF TIME is her debut novel.|
Connect with Paige on PaigeBritt.com, Twitter, Facebook, and Goodreads.