59: The Humorous Heroine

59: The Humorous Heroine

From Chicken Soup for the Soul: Tough Times, Tough People

The Humorous Heroine

It is often hard to distinguish between the hard knocks in life and those of opportunity.

~Frederick Phillips

“Annie,” he said, “it’s time to move on.” I had heard rumors about layoffs, but my head reeled. I had given twelve years of my life, working weekends, working late, covering multiple positions, and generally nurturing the company like it was my own. Yet it had been bought out by a financial conglomerate and so, like many others, I was gone. Within a month, over ten percent of the staff would be dismissed. It was musical chairs played to the tune of a corporate funeral dirge.

My upbringing had taught me that if you worked hard, you’d be rewarded. I always gave my best effort, putting my personal needs last. My ex-husband had taken advantage of this character trait, and now, I realized, so had my company. A corporate acquisition, coupled with numerous layers of executive incompetence and extravagance, and again my faith was shattered. A bitter lesson learned twice.

I was a single mother of two boys, struggling to pay a mortgage. We were already running on a tight budget, no fancy vacations or meals out, still paying off an expensive divorce. At least, I had reasoned, I was working and feeding my kids. Now I felt dizzy, rudderless.

In a way I was relieved to be rid of the job. My kids were happy I was out. “You never liked that job anyway, Mom,” my older son said. I was surprised he had noticed. I guess it showed more than I realized. Yet, like any parent, my primary goal was to provide for my family. I figured my heart’s true calling could wait until my kids were well established and out on their own.

Still, I had my boys, a bit of savings, and a resilient attitude. I thought of J. K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series. A single mom in desperate straits, she had written an incredible series of books, pulling herself up by her own bootstraps, out of the gutter and into the gold. It would be a long shot, but maybe, I reasoned, I could do the same.

I’d been writing stories about my childhood and posting them on my blog. As the daughter of two city people who had moved to the country and started a farm, I had an unusual upbringing, full of wacky happenings and unusual situations. The stories were popular, and for years people had encouraged me to write, so I mused—why not put them all in a book? My parents would soon celebrate their fiftieth anniversary. This could be a nice gift for them and for me, if I could get it published.

I always wanted to write for a living but never dared make the jump and leave my day job. What a time to follow my star, but the timing was beyond my control. So I rolled with it as best I could. Every day I spent hours writing the book, then scouring the want ads. No success in my job search, but finally the book was done. I started pitching it to agencies, gaining interest, getting turned down, re-pitching, re-writing, and never giving up.

Around the same time, I met a man who was pursuing his ambition of becoming a country music singer/songwriter. What a pair of dreamers we were! Still, he had tremendous talent. I helped him craft his biography, a web page, press releases, stories for the local newspapers and music magazines, and eventually his first CD. Finally he signed a recording contract. I was thrilled for him, and happy to have helped.

Yet the thrill rang a little hollow. Again I had put someone else first. Yes, I loved him dearly, but this was the classic female faux pas. We’re natural nurturers, helping others succeed and grow. I had to focus on my own dream. My livelihood, and that of my children, depended on it.

I wrote for newspapers, magazines—any publication that would have me. I wrote humorous stories, amusing anecdotes, light-hearted tales that would ease a worried world. These were especially troubled times for the print media since, in a financial downturn, the first thing most companies cut is advertising. It seemed everyone was panicking, hunkering down until this fiscal tornado was over. Still, I reasoned, the world needed a hero. Or at least a heroine with a sense of humor.

“I saw your column in the paper,” my son’s teacher said. “I loved it! I read all your stories. They make me laugh. Please keep writing!”

“I saw your Thanksgiving story in the newspaper,” my accountant said. “Hilarious!”

Sure, I thought. I’ll keep writing. But my financial hourglass was quickly running out of sand.

Then something strange occurred. I had read about it happening before, during the Great Depression. I first noticed it with the film industry—annual revenue was, surprisingly... up! People were tired of hiding from bad times. They wanted to escape, at least for a couple of hours. While they weren’t taking big vacations, they still needed to get away from it all. They did this by going to the movies in record numbers. Tiny breaks from reality, but sorely needed. Could it be the beginning of a turnaround?

One afternoon I stopped by a bookstore. It was full of people. Literary agents responded, and inquiries for my manuscript increased. My new book was humorous, light, and odd—could it help people forget how difficult times were? I was convinced it was only a matter of time before it sold. Still, I was afraid to hope.

In the meantime, my boyfriend’s record company sent him on a concert tour. Before he left, we had a heart to heart talk. Even though we’d be apart, we promised to call every day and stay in touch. He’d be back soon enough. Whatever we would face, we would face together. With renewed strength and confidence, my stories began selling. More newspapers picked up my columns.

“Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone.” I’m fine with that. I write to ease the tough times, help people see the lighter side. Now I can share it with the world. And I’ve never been happier.

Quite a quirky fairy tale ending! But thank you, tough times. You freed me from a soulless job and shook me out of my comfort zone, enabling me to find true love and follow my heart’s work. I wouldn’t have done it without you.

Life isn’t always what you expect it to be. Sometimes that’s a good thing.

~Annie Mannix

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