Montana Wolf

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Valentine from the Sea

I finished the end of MotorHome Zen today. A draft, mind you, but a vibrant culmination of energies. Enough to terrify and exhilarate me. For that's what writing does, and if one can not walk those serrated edges one isn't cut out for life with the written word. It happens when I sit in the morning, pen in hand, and wonder where the ink will lead. Or if. It happens when I send my work to readers and wonder if the text will land with a thud or alight simple upon their souls. It happens in the face of wait from agents and publishers, when I receive gushing glowing letters from fans, or when rejection swamps my door.

I've been especially anxious this week because I knew the end of the book was near. Another ending, as if losing a lover wasn't enough. I also said goodbye to dear friends who stopped by to visit from Vancouver Island and five more buddies cranked their ignitions and headed back to the States. It felt like piling on as I mourned the loss of two deep loves, one in real time, one through the written pages of my book.

This morning I walked the beach and pleaded with the waves to salve my heartache. No beach combing for me. Couldn't make out shells through tears. My walk was almost complete when I stopped to stare out to sea. That's when my eyes turned down and I spotted the largest jingle shell I have ever seen, as big as the palm of my hand. I bent down and pulled it from it's sandy grave to find it was shaped like a heart!

That's when I knew I would garner the courage to finish the book.

My heart would be whole again, said my valentine from the sea.


  1. I was sitting in the kitchen one Valentine's Day, knowing my (then) husband was showering, and readying himself for the evening... He walked through the house and said, "Bye"...

    WTF? I sat there, not knowing if I should scream or cry... The phone rang... it was my best friend, Trish... calling me from Pittsburgh... "Will you be my Valentine, SueZQ?"

    It was the best Valentine's Day ever... Congrats on the book... Can't wait for my copy... Love you, Christina...


  2. Thank you, Babette. You know how much it means.
    Susan, you hit it! I couldn't survive w/o my women friends. Uncanny how we show up for one another just at the perfect time. I can go for days without hearing from you, and if I put on the earrings you gave me I KNOW I'll hear from you that day. Let there be magic...xoxo