Anyone who knows me knows that I speak in song lyrics and movie quotes, so it rarely comes as a surprise to anyone when I pull out a favorite Julia Roberts reference.
There's this scene in My Best Friend's Wedding where Julia and Michael are on the boat in the Chicago river and they're juuuuust about to kiss, but before that can happen, they talk about moments passing you by.
That, my friends, is where I am right now: my moment has passed me by. Not for good, by any means, but for now, it's gone.
For many, many reasons, most of them having to do with my husband's current situation at work, our New York move is on hold. What that means is no pretty brownstone on a sleepy Brooklyn street - no subway ride into the city at dawn - no Macy's, Bloomies or Saks - no view of the ESB.
As I've swallowed this bitter pill, I've tried to keep perspective and figure out what I'm able to do here in Iowa that can prepare me for the eventual move out East. Most of it involves classes and lots and lots of writing. I have to start treating my writing like a full-time job if I'm going to get better (read: published). It means turning off my phone, disconnecting the internet (you have no idea how damn appealing Pinterest is to someone with an easily distracted imagination) and shutting my office door. It means late nights and early mornings. It means scrapping complete manuscripts and starting over because I know down deep, there's a better book in me.
So while right now it feels like I'm stuck here, I'm not. I'll travel. I'll research. I'll observe. I'll ask questions. I'll drill my author friends for advice. It feels a lot like treading water, but in reality, I'm strengthening my swimmer's legs.
And, as Julia said in Eat. Pray. Love., "It won't last forever. Nothing does."
So there's that.