Member-only story
I step in a new direction…
Some of us live in the same house we were born in. The rest of us eventually move — sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Into a new neighborhood, or another state, or even a different country. By the time I was eight, I’d lived in eight different homes. Mountainous Swiss landscapes morphed into the wheat fields around Wichita, Kansas, and so on.
As our outer landscapes change, our inner geography changes too. Point your life in a different direction, start a new job, end a marriage, go to rehab, you will feel it. The inner landscape always shows us where we are. And where we’re headed.
Underneath that landscape there is a wellspring we all carry — a consistent aspect of ourselves that keeps us alive on this journey.
Mine is writing. I have always been a writer, no matter what else I was doing. Journaling has kept me grounded through glory times, hellscapes, gut punches and awakenings.
But I’m in new territory now. Writing with a capital W:
I’m publishing a collection of poetry. I’m publishing a fantasy novel.
And it’s happening this year.
The collection of poetry is the closest I’ve come so far to writing memoir. It’s…
