I have finally moved to Canada, and I’ve been here for a little while now. Landing on the 4th August I was (and still am in a minor way) unable to get internet access. I had shipped a ton of items over to my in-laws, which stupidly I forgot having plug adapters in, so I didn’t have any way of connecting my laptop to any power for days. Not writing was so difficult! I don’t yet have a phone, number or data until I get ID arranged and sorted to actually be a registered individual here, which will take a few weeks.
Thankfully, I have my laptop power sorted! So now I’m able to write and get creative again. I’ve been able to rework older chapters and scenes I’d written some time ago, which was a great reminder for why first drafts are meant to be horrible collections of work that will be amazing. The pressure of rushing out a manuscript seems to fade and the enjoyment of writing, and the process toward completion is sound, again.
I’m not sure how long I have until I finally find a job so I’m taking this precious time to write and complete as much as I can whilst being distracted, very cutely, by my dog who I have missed greatly. I’ll get back to focusing! As for moving in general, it was fine. But being a new person all over again, and trying to navigate through these experiences, alone, has proven difficult. Like I stated, I’m going to focus on my blessings; my love, our dog & my writing.
Yesterday was my Birthday:
So my darling got me a wonderful selection of David Foster Wallace books from one of our local BMV’s (partly because moving abroad meant having to donate so much of extensive library that I’d built since I was small, and so he replaced a couple), and I cried. I ugly cried so profusely I couldn’t find a tissue fast enough. He stood in mild shock, watching a grown woman crying over a birthday card and a pile of books, with a tiny confused smile across his face. It was pure wonderment.
Also, be sure to check out my poetry tab up top! Let me know what you think! Poetry is a hard topic of discussion for so many writers, as most don’t read or write it, nor do they see the value in it. Poetry for me is the basis of “show don’t tell”, its the basis of where I see the most genius ways of using words to describe the most innate and most human desires, wants or rejections, and I’d like for others to see and feel that too.
Thank you for reading!