Underground
I leave for my residency at Hambidge tomorrow morning. Although I am excited about spending two weeks alone in a little cabin in the Northern Georgian woods to write, I'm also nervous. It didn't help to watch old episodes of Frontier House (PBS) on DVD last night. Although I will miss my family and my friends terribly, I think my real fears are not of the southern bugs or becoming lost in the temperate rainforest but of the "put up or shut up" variety. I'm bringing a solid second draft of my novel with me but want to come home with a magical third and final draft, the version of the novel I live with in my head, with its voice and color and characters. But I'm also open to whatever happens. Another novel has been circling in my head for months with nowhere to land. Perhaps it'll get the opportunity to grow there. All I know is that waking up every day but nothing to do but write will be delicious.