Casting Out the Line.

 Seen from my climb today up Calaveras...

Seen from my climb today up Calaveras...

After an amazing solo bike ride (Oh, how I've missed you, mid-week miles!), I called my dad to ask him what he wanted to eat for his birthday dinner that I'm hosting on Saturday. I'd already heard from the rest of the peanut gallery what they wanted to eat, so I wanted to go straight to the Source, the Birthday Boy himself. He was fishing, so I got his voicemail, left my message and ended it with, "I hope you caught a lot of fish!!" He called me back a little while later, and apparently he didn't catch anything. Not.even.one.fish.

Waking up before dawn, packing up the car with gear, driving out to the lake…all for what? But I know that he's had many days like today, yet he still loves fishing more than I love riding my bike, and days like today are just part of the game, unfortunately. And at the same time, days like today will not derail him.

Yesterday I attended another open mic at Pegasus Books and a handsome fellow took the seat next to me. He inquired if I was going to read, and I shyly answered, "Yes." He looked down at my hands which were holding a book.

"You're going to read from your book?" he asked.

"Oh, gosh no, this is a book that I just bought," I stammered. "I'm reading this…" I wave a folded-up piece of white paper.

Today on my bike ride, I found, as I always do- that when the legs spin, the mind spins too. It got me thinking as my heart was pumping and the wind was blowing through my hair, how thrilling- yet also so unbelievably scary- it would be to one day be holding my own published book.

Fitting, since this quote came from the book I was holding in my hand, The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. What a necessary and appropriate tool for everyone to read.

And so, it continues. Just like my dad, my deep-seated love is what drives me each morning to wake before dawn, gather my gear, take a deep breath, and write. I can only hope that after persistently casting my line out day after day, soon enough, there will be a worthy fish on the other end.