I’m at 30,000 Words and I Feel Fine

Okay, so I didn’t quite rhyme my 30,000 words with the classic Beatles song.

But I still have 30,000 words in the can!

When I got here, I wasn’t excited to write about hope and the things I’ve done to try to find hope and healing. I had a relapse in December, a fresh bit of blindness that killed my hope.

For a while. Not forever.

I’m back to writing about finding hope with a hopeless situation, but I’m trying to make it universal. Everyone is struggling today. Illness. Grief. Rejection. Worry. Turmoil. I don’t know many folks who aren’t dealing with at least one.

Hope is possible.

Even though I haven’t gotten my miracle, I’ve learned so much about hope on this journey. For tens of thousands of years, humanity has come up with ways to find hope in hopelessness. I’m studying a few of the ones that find me.

And that’s the thing about this project:

Every journey found me. I didn’t seek them out.

Including one that found me on this Welsh residency. One of the English artist residents was working on a project that gelled perfectly with mine. We spent part of Carly’s time collaborating on what will become a fascinating chapter in this book I’m tentatively calling Blind Spots.

So many other things are happening behind the scenes. I Am Number 13 has a final cover, and I love love love it so so so much! I can’t wait for you to see it! Later this week, we’re sending it off for a very significant editorial review.

PLEASE CROSS EVERYTHING THAT THEY SELECT IT.

One of my pieces was accepted by Wanderlust Journal. As soon as it’s live, I’ll share it with you.

The past couple of years have been hell for me. I’m grateful for this time of serenity, where I have nothing to contemplate except what I want to create and how to improve my downward facing dog. (Of course, I’m eating plenty of cheese and quaffing lots of cider, too!)

So here’s to hope!