This Christmas was a weird Christmas. For the whole month I was home all day every day because of my knee injury. With short-term disability, I can't work. And the orthopedic surgeon said it'd take nine months to let the torn meniscus heal. With no worker's compensation, no income, and no unemployment benefit as a self-employed interpreter, I looked for sources for "income." I checked out a couple of emergency funds for writers sites and found myself unqualified: writers who would get help must be published authors. I had some publication credits, but that's not enough. Then, through Fidelma at Artist Trust who gave me an e-address. It turned out to be The Dramatist Guild in NYC. I used to be a member, but currently I'm not. So I wondered if I was qualified but gave it a try anyway, sending Sue a letter and a copy of my artist's resume. I got a response asking me to fill out the form. I was still not sure if I'd get it.
Yesterday, December 26, I received a letter from the Guild. Before I opened it, I suspected it was a rejection letter. To my surprise, it came with a check! I wanted to cry. The grant became my biggest Christmas present I'd ever received. The help I received did not only touched my heart but also encouraged me to keep writing. I will.
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