I did go to Polaris. I promised to take awesome photos with my cellphone’s nifty little camera.
There were moments. A few of the costumes were downright wonderful. And I saw Charlaine Harris, which certainly deserved a few pictures. But I was with my daughter. My gorgeous, wonderful daughter, who’s grown up and has her own separate life. For the space of twenty-four hours our lives fully intersected again, and I forgot all about my promises, because I was sharing a portion of my new life with my mature kid, and it was so darn fun. We were two writers with a lifetime of history between us.
For a day we put titles and expectations behind us.
It’s a good thing, to let that stuff go. When I was seventeen, I took my Mom out for lunch and paid for it with my own money. I bought her a lunch of Ceasar Salad and two gin and tonics. And somehow during that two hour feast, the age disparity disappeared. We weren’t leader and follower, we were friends. We stayed that way to the end of her life.
I hope my kid felt like that this weekend, because I did.
Then I came home. To the Hedi Peacock Untitled Book #2 manuscript. To the deadline. To that boatload of fear and self-doubt. That’s what I’ve been doing this week. Writing. Deleting. Pushing ahead. Writing some more. I will plow forward. I will find the right pair of blinders so that I can keep plodding forward toward the finish line.
Now, I feel like I’ve let you down a bit. Usually I try to be funny, if not inspiring. But today, not so much. So here’s a little piece of pleasure for you. If you’re a writer, and you’re struggling with some of those writer issues, then hit this link. It will take you to a section of Jenny Crusie’s blog devoted to writing. Read up. You’ll feel a lot better. And I think…somewhat inspired.