|original graphic by me|
I'm reading Anne of Green Gables again for the millionth time and I'm so smitten with it I wish I had a time machine. I want to zoom back and be 11 years old with Anne and live with Marilla and Matthew and be best friends.
I want to do chores with her while anticipating the fun we're going to have at the Dryad's Bubble or on walks through Lover's Lane. I want to help her decorate her little gable room with flowers and photos. I want to laugh with her when she gets into scrapes and I really want to watch her break her slate over Gilbert's head when he calls her "Carrots!"
I want to remember what it's like to sit and daydream so thoroughly that you can escape from the world around. I want to lose myself in a fabulous book and then sit in Willowmere and talk it through with Anne. I want to have academic ambitions like Anne and feel the satisfaction of earning good marks after studying for all I'm worth.
I want to make the time that Anne does to write, really write. I want to fulfill that little dream I've always had of being a real writer. Someone who can captivate an audience and make them feel things thoroughly.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. In book one Anne has not yet realized her dream to be a published author. So maybe I'm still in book one of my own story, too, and it just isn't time for it to happen yet.
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