Well, my brave (read "fool-hardy") daughter has been in Italy for twelve days. In that time, she has managed to get locked out of the monastery where she was staying, climb over the fence at said monastery, lose her credit cards, driver's license and 50 euros, end up in the back of a police car with two Italian policemen, and have an encounter with a giant tarantula. Her life seems to be a case of "jelly-side down." She has an unerring knack for getting herself into trouble. However, thus far she always seems to survive and come out of the situation with a great story to tell. But as her mom, my life is often a rollercoaster. She is everything I never was--crazy, spontaneous, danger-seeking, and irreverent. Somehow, I just can't ever see her being a mini-van driving soccer mom! But I take great delight in hearing about her funny escapades, and I don't much mind having to assist with the occassional "bail-out." It keeps my life interesting.
On the other hand, last weekend I attended a wonderful working writer's retreat at a religious conference center in the San Fernando Valley. It was to have been three days of focused writing, critiquing, sharing, thoughtful solitude, and bonding with new writer friends. I spent much of the time preoccupied by worry about the jelly-side down kid. When I finally got an email saying all was well, only then could I really appreciate the retreat. I did enjoy it, but under different circumstances I know I would have gotten more out of it.
I am always a bit humbled by the talents of other writers, and I love hearing about their successes (and wishing I had something to share). Last year one of the attendees made contact with an editor who took her story back to her publishing house and has now given the woman her first book contract. Miracles do happen. I just need to renew my commitment to regularly working at my craft.
I shared three picture book manuscripts and received some good suggestions for strengthening them, but I was most encouraged by the response to my character study from the historical novel I've just begun. It seems the topic is fresh and unfamiliar, and the characters appealed to my critique group members. I've decided to set aside my middle grade mystery and begin work in earnest on what has the working title of Young Crusaders.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
My Brave Daughter
Tomorrow my child will go off an adventure alone. She is going to Italy for three months in search of herself and some deeper meaning for her life. I envy her and admire her courage. Few people are comfortable spending time with themselves, and learning how to do that can bring great peace. Her life up to this point has all been in preparation for this moment--she just didn't know it, and now she is ready to go off and learn some important lessons.
In reality, I sowed the seeds of wanderlust before she was even born--studying for a semester in Copenhagen, backpacking through Europe for nine weeks in the early Seventies, and going off to Libya to teach for two years. Only now can I appreciate what a leap of faith it is for a parent to say good-bye to a child at an airport and to have no idea what the future will bring them. I hope that her goodness will bring out the goodness in the strangers she meets. I pray for her safety, that she'll eat properly and not forget to brush her teeth.
Just like her first day of Kindergarten, I am feeling left behind. But I guess that is as it should be. My life up to this point has also been in preparation. We all must send our children off. My parents watched me go. I know she will come home a different person. I did. Travel does that to you, especially if you are brave enough to go alone.
In reality, I sowed the seeds of wanderlust before she was even born--studying for a semester in Copenhagen, backpacking through Europe for nine weeks in the early Seventies, and going off to Libya to teach for two years. Only now can I appreciate what a leap of faith it is for a parent to say good-bye to a child at an airport and to have no idea what the future will bring them. I hope that her goodness will bring out the goodness in the strangers she meets. I pray for her safety, that she'll eat properly and not forget to brush her teeth.
Just like her first day of Kindergarten, I am feeling left behind. But I guess that is as it should be. My life up to this point has also been in preparation. We all must send our children off. My parents watched me go. I know she will come home a different person. I did. Travel does that to you, especially if you are brave enough to go alone.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Reflections of the Rockies
I have just returned from five wonderful days visiting my friend Patty in CO. She's the kind of friend who makes you quickly feel as if no time has passed since you last shared a glass of wine and good conversation. We had so many wonderful stories to revisit--Istanbul and our rug purchases, those rare camel bone boxes, Shirley Valentine vacations, Grand Cayman, the Del Mar Fair and the Bing Crosby Building, Redlands and the parties we had there, educational publishing and all the characters who've been part of that world, and so much more.
But we also created some new memories. The Rockies this time of year are spectacular. The aspens hadn't begun to turn, but we could hardly complain about the 70 degree weather, the bright blue skies, and the occasional high white cloud. Steamboat Springs had great shops and a topnotch restaurant, Cafe Diva. Highlights there were the elk medallions and the watermelon and goat cheese salad--unbelievable! We passed, though, on the hotsprings at Strawberry Creek when we learned the place was "clothing optional" after dark. It was also such a remote spot that we thought we had driven onto the set of Deliverance!
One day after lunch, we rocked on the porch of the Stanley Hotel--Stephen King's inspiration for The Shining. It wasn't the least bit scary, but after dark, in the dead of winter, with Jack Nicholson lurking down some hallway, it might be a different matter.
The meandering streams and the fishermen we occasionally saw along the banks made me even more determined to learn how to fly-fish some day soon. Patty, ever the great hostess, also ordered up some herds of elk (the ones that had escaped being made into "medallions," anyway) for our drive through the mountains--several hundred in the meadows near Estes Park. It was an amazing way to end the summer and reconnect with an old friend.
But we also created some new memories. The Rockies this time of year are spectacular. The aspens hadn't begun to turn, but we could hardly complain about the 70 degree weather, the bright blue skies, and the occasional high white cloud. Steamboat Springs had great shops and a topnotch restaurant, Cafe Diva. Highlights there were the elk medallions and the watermelon and goat cheese salad--unbelievable! We passed, though, on the hotsprings at Strawberry Creek when we learned the place was "clothing optional" after dark. It was also such a remote spot that we thought we had driven onto the set of Deliverance!
One day after lunch, we rocked on the porch of the Stanley Hotel--Stephen King's inspiration for The Shining. It wasn't the least bit scary, but after dark, in the dead of winter, with Jack Nicholson lurking down some hallway, it might be a different matter.
The meandering streams and the fishermen we occasionally saw along the banks made me even more determined to learn how to fly-fish some day soon. Patty, ever the great hostess, also ordered up some herds of elk (the ones that had escaped being made into "medallions," anyway) for our drive through the mountains--several hundred in the meadows near Estes Park. It was an amazing way to end the summer and reconnect with an old friend.
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