Surely I'm not afraid to sit down with my lap top and crank out words... Right, it couldn't be me. Not the girl who is seriously prolific and busts out a thousand words per day. Or used to....
Yeah, I used to say I was riding a drafting wave and was going to take it all the way until it crashed. If you know nothing about the ocean or surfing/boogie boarding, don't let my phrasing throw you off. It's completely my pastor's fault that his sermon title matched what I used to call my drafting wave and the fear I never enjoyed admitting: what happens when the wave crashes.
It crashed. HARD. Super hard.
But, guess what.... I'm still here. My agent didn't drop me. I didn't stop having story ideas. I didn't stop being a writer, an author just because I swallowed a lot of ocean water and my head got stuck in the sand for a while. Sure, I got rolled under the waves and entirely wondered if I'd be able to come up for air, but I'm breathing.
The thing about waves, if you don't know the ocean, is that they keep on coming. The swells keep rising, cresting, and crashing. The illusion of the perfect wave is just that, an illusion. There will never be just one single wave to ride on. So, here I am on the lap top I have been avoiding and starting a new book. I have no idea how long this is going to take me to finish, but it will get finished.
I'm intimidated by my lap top that used to be my constant companion. I'm scared that this is going to be really hard work and that I'll never be where I was. I'm submitting to the call of my God to paddle back out and ride more waves. I was on such a good one before my surgery and the next will not compare to it. It can't. Not because I was on the perfect wave, riding it all the way into shore, but because each wave is its own and each ride is different.
So, here goes nothing... Here goes everything, I'm paddling out. Lets do this.