What has your writing road trip looked like so far? Excitement? Traffic jams and detours? Where are you going next?
Having been known to love an extended metaphor far too much, I find the idea of the writing road trip really compelling. My writing journey started out high up in the mountains on a bumpy dirt road, Palo Colorado Rd, perhaps, where I could look out and see the ocean, but the twists and turns of the canyon below were hidden from view. And back then, I wasn't even looking for the road. I wrote because I liked it. Professionalism, publication, revision, they had nothing to do with me. They were on the shore, I had my head in the clouds.
But in college that road took a turn down the mountain and I plunged downwards, bumping around, going in circles, picking up speed, nearly driving over cliffs multiple times. And then I hit the bottom, and thought okay, I'm good. I can really do this.
That was only the entrance into the pitch dark canyon of brutal reality.
But finally I can spy the light shining down on Highway 1 as it twists along the cliffs overlooking the ocean. And though it may be a long drive and an uphill climb, beating a manuscript into actual publishable shape, I've got the top down, and the wind is in my hair, and I'm happy driving.