On the Road Again
rollin' rollin' rollin'.......
Hey - what are you afraid of?
While you are reading this, I am embarked on an 11 hour drive (with breaks) to pick up my daughter at a summer camp in one state and drop her at another summer camp three states further along.
Big states.
I have….trepidation.
I used to love driving. It was a thing that I would have said I was great at, in my 20s when “great” meant “fearless." Now I am fearless about other things: throwing parties, hosting Zooms, meeting celebrities, talking about awkward subjects. But driving leaves a flutter somewhere above my stomach and below my lungs. An uncertainty, a quashed concern. It is a funny thing, fear.
I do not give in to it.
The thing that makes me able to steady myself? The passion that others have for driving. I love hearing women aver that driving is wonderful, that they love to drive—that they would drive anywhere for any reason. Their joy reminds me that I once felt that way too.
I remember that feeling as a recent high school graduate in Texas, the feeling of endless possibility — I might just keep on driving past my house and go go go go until the road ran out. Layered underneath all that freedom and possibility was a sense of power. I had this strong metal machine at my whim. I was in charge.
That, maybe is what I lost in the 30 years that I voluntarily sat in the passenger seat—that lust for power. For three decades, I was perfectly happy not making the choices on the route to take to the places I wanted to go. I was happy to simply be along for the ride. Unnecessary. Entertaining. Frivolous.
The sidekick.
Maybe what I actually fear in picking up driving again, isn’t the possibility of dying—maybe what I actually fear is having the tragic realization that for 30 years I voluntarily ceded my power—and that it is time to take it back.
Writing News:
This week, I was interviewed for Authority Magazine (the irony of this transition is not lost on me) — I am told the interview will go live on August 15, 2024. Until then, you can enjoy my photos of recent literary events, like Evan Dalton Smith’s book launch for Looking for Andy Griffith at NYC’s Salmagundi Club. When I got there, no person was manning the check-in table so I ended up wandering around the deserted club, following the sounds of chatter and laughter up to an art gallery which had wine for sale for $14 per plastic glass. I declined and then discovered that I was at the wrong event (an art opening instead of a book launch), so I wandered downstairs and found a room filled with art and pool tables. Finally, the coat check people returned and I was able to be directed to the room that held the event. Fun times! Great photos!
Speaking of great photos - I spent last weekend traveling on the “riviera” of California to writing sessions and indie bookstores in Santa Barbara, San Luis Obispo and Ventura. I even got to meet my editor in person! There are lots of photos of each on my Facebook author page. (The two links will take you to the two sets of photos)
Random Final Thought:
This coming week is Lithuanian Camp! It is a week of high energy, fireflies, and a really huge bonfire. No alcohol. No tech. No signal. If next week’s newsletter is late, you know why!
Happy Trails!