POV shift: I moved to an island.


A hiking trail near my new house
A hiking trail near my new house

A month ago, my family moved from Orange County’s endless summer to a small(ish) island off the coast of the Pacific Northwest.

It’s the beginning of summer, and the weather has been sunny and warm, so climate-wise, not much of a shift. But that’s only the climate. Every other aspect of our lives has changed; (one might expect more blog posts, given the circumstances). I’ll try to explain why I haven’t been more “splain-y.”

My children are at Wizard Camp today, in the woods, in the pouring rain. They are beyond thrilled. Subjected to hot, sunny, blue-sky day, after blue sky day, after blue sky day all their wee lives, today’s downpour has been nothing short of a miracle. (The cat and dog disagree.)

I haven’t written (a blog post) or worked on my summer plan for a four-part novella because I’ve been stuck. Oh, it isn’t writer’s block, quite the opposite. So much new-ness is like a walking around with a microscope in front of my face. Every facet of our new world is fascinating, different, worthy of examination. I’m stacking up ideas for stories (which may or may not be interesting to anyone but me.)

I am in love with this place, and with that love comes the fear of the unknown, the hopes for what could be, the doubtful vigilance for any potential heartbreak.

I think the primary obstacle blocking my ability to write a draft of my thoroughly outlined novella is that it represents a past, a past I’m ready to leave behind. But it also leaves me wide open to the unknown, an unknown threatening to grow in size. Our new house is far from ready–we’ve contracted extensive renovations and are living in a less-than-ideal rental until our house is complete. Anyone who’s ever dared to renovate knows deadlines are to be laughed at, ignored. Life will always throw curveballs, the only thing we can really count on is change (and taxes and death. And cute shoes. Always count on cute shoes.)

It’s time for this writer to give up fear in favor of wordcount. So here I am, today, writing the following as my commitment:

I love my new life. I cherish where I’ve been and I am ready to say good-bye. I welcome whatever is before me. The motivated, creative, compassionate writer is awake in me. It is time to write.