A Hole in the Sky

This past summer my husband and I spent a weekend at Wintergreen Resort. The highlight of the trip was a hike led by an expert at The Nature Foundation at Wintergreen. John, our guide, led our straggly group of twelve strangers on the hike while explaining the geological history of the area and the notorious chestnut tree blight in such a mellow approach you might forget to be impressed with his knowledge.

John’s voice was calming, a breeze in the forest, and his stories about bears, and the idea of hiking with bells to ward off the bears, were delightful, if a bit campy. Nonetheless, I followed John’s voice and focused on my hiking partner’s backside (that would be my husband’s backside) throughout the hike. The path was a bit slick from recent rains and the stones and tripping hazards were plentiful. So, I concentrated on one step at a time and filled myself with the scent of summer greenery.

And then I looked up. No prompt, no particular reason. I became captivated by the hole in the tree canopy above us. A singular peek at blue sky piercing itself through the leaves and cutting through my concentration. It was just the sliver of hope I needed to finish this portion of the hike that soon opened up to this amazing view at Raven’s Roost overlook.

Leading up to this weekend, and all summer, in fact, I had had my head buried over my laptop, executing the tail-end of a massive eighteen-month revision of my novel. So intent was I on finishing this revision (and I did!) that I literally strained my neck, requiring 8 weeks of physical therapy. (I suspect there were many contributing factors to this strain, but let’s blame it on the book!)

I have always struggled to balance two conflicting priorities that seem written on my heart: that of perseverance to stay on task while desperately wanting to enjoy the ride. I value both. The world, and literature, are full of examples of lives that focus too much on one or the other. My husband is attuned to when I go too far astray to either side, encouraging me, often with annoyingly loud claps, to get off my bum and away from the computer to go for a walk. Conversely, when I seem distracted, he’ll ask where I am with a recent chapter or scene challenge and chide me back into position at my computer.

This past summer, with my head down, revising, revising, revising, I lost sight of the blue sky around me.  I had to turn down so many weekend invitations by friends or family members to do something fun in order to stay planted at my computer. I had to put down books I otherwise would have enjoyed reading to focus on my own. I even used a few vacation days hunched over my computer, tightening sentences and moving commas from one place to another. And I had to pause my blog posts in order to channel all my creative energy into one place.

But then the sky opened up. I was able to type “The End” and really mean it. Whew.

There have been so many encouraging words along the way from those who understand this journey or those who understand the need to accomplish a life goal. So many glimpses of encouraging, blue sky arriving in the form of emails, notes, and encouragement from you. So, thank you. You made this journey more pleasant and reminded me to stay focused but to also enjoy the ride. While writing is a rather lonely process, it takes a village of supporters, experts, coaches, and just enough blue sky to see it through to the end. This adventure has been a series of steps, some small, some gigantic leaps. The next step is to find an agent to make this novel a published reality. I know that literary warrior is out there if I just search hard enough.

In the meantime, I’ve already started on another story. Anyone ready for another hike? The scenery will be amazing.