Saturday, October 17, 2009

Where I Am

I’m writing this post from atop Straw Hill, in New Hampshire, and this is ‘my’ little office. I have been here for a day short of two weeks—two weeks without blogging. Okay, there was that one afternoon when I commented on Davin Malasarn's post over at the Literary Lab, but it was no small feat! I traveled at great length to the Unity Library (combining the outing with a trip to the dump—sorry, the recycling center), to use the public computer with satellite internet access. Rain fade made it little faster than dial-up, but at least I could acknowledge Davin’s helpful answer to my question on tense—one of my issues in Story for a Shipwright.

While I miss reading my favorite blogs, and I miss commenting, the seclusion here on ‘The Hill’ has also been very refreshing. With few obligations, I’ve had concentrated time for revisions, in a pastoral environment that rivals a private rehab center and spa combined.

Imagine long walks down the stonewall lined road, gold and crimson set ablaze by shafts of early morning sun. Breathe in the crisp aroma of decaying foliage while rustling through fallen leaves.

That was last week; now imagine a constant barrage of siblings and old friends, trying to remember just how long it’s been since I’ve seen any of them. I have been visiting without letup for days. Consequently, I have so little creative juice running at this point that I can barely write this blog. I am, in fact putting forth the effort, because in ten minutes, we’ll be heading off to the Manchester area, to my sister’s, who has—imagine this—high speed internet, where I can upload this post; if only I can sneak away from siblings I haven’t seen in I can’t say how long.


  1. What a beautiful place to regenerate. It sounds perfect. You'll need some more down time after all of that intense visiting :) Enjoy your time.

  2. ALL of this sounds absolutely splendid! I'm so glad we could help at the Literary Lab for you. I enjoyed reading what you wrote and hope you've had some great progress. Keep at it and enjoy the rest of your time there on the hill. Lucky! I've missed you, though, I won't lie. :(

  3. I've missed you, too, Bridget, but I understand the need to visit with family - and unplug a bit. Your office space in the East looks heavenly. Revisions might go easier in a place like that. Good luck! I can't wait to read the changes!

  4. I've totally missed you, Bridget! But I hope you are enjoying your time there. I'll be in touch soon.

  5. Deb, Michelle, Laura & Susan
    You have no idea how much I miss your blogs! It’s going to take me a month just to catch up.
    We’re extending our stay out here for a week, which is a positive thing, but I’ve got this itch that no one here seems to understand. (They don’t even own, nor have they ever owned, a computer). My family teases me about this ‘other world’ they don’t comprehend. “It’s for my writing,” I explain and that appeases them; fortunately, they love that write and they love to read what I write, so who am I to complain?
    Just the same…
    I hope all is well with you…

  6. Um, I get the whole "not understanding" thing so well. And that itch, too! My family simply doesn't get it. They tease me about spending so much time online with my un-real friends. The thing is that I have closer friends here online than I do in real life. It's a shame that my family doesn't understand that. Even when I flew out to D.C. to visit three of them, or went on a writing retreat down in Southern Utah this past summer with people I met online, or go out to lunch with blogging friends from around here. I even had a blogging friend fly all the way from Australia to here!

    I was sitting in the airport with my dad, waiting for her flight to arrive. I was chatting with another friend on my laptop, and my dad rolled his eyes and said something to the effect of "unreality" - um, hello! We're sitting here in the airport so I can meet one of these people! How is that not real???

    Anyway, I understand your frustration. Nothing I've said or done drives it home to them, though. I think only writers really get the need for this network.

  7. Michelle,
    Fortunately for me, my husband (and perhaps yours, too) grasps on some level what all this means for us as writers. Todd knows my regular commenters and beta readers by name, although he has some trouble keeping track of who’s who—‘okay, is she the one from Olathe, Utah, B.C, or Michigan? (Scott, from ‘near Detroit’ has officially been dubbed, with a chuckle, my ‘online boyfriend.’)

    My parents merely look at me bemusedly, sensing that whatever this is all about, it means something big to me. They’d love to see my novel published, and if that happens as a result of ‘all this time spent checking emails,’ Great! If not, ‘well, hey, you’re an adult now, who are we to tell you it’s a big fat waste of time.’ Funny thing is, they have no idea how much time I really spend, and would be spending on blogs—if only they had hi-speed internet…

    Okay, I’m going downstairs now, where my parents are sitting in front of the woodstove. I’m going to disconnect the only phone line in the house and plug it into my laptop’s modem. I’ll sit for several minutes waiting to connect, all the while feeling their eyeballs on the back of my head as they continue chitchatting and I hope for a few emails to trickle in and out. I hope you can feel the bemusement.

  8. I know exactly how you feel with the whole eyeballs on the back of your head. UGH! LOL. Can't wait until you're back. :)

  9. I'm so with you ladies... I think my hubby does understand the need to connect with my online writing pals, who, in many cases, are going through the same moments of self-doubt and inner craziness that I am... but my parents don't get it at all. Lucky sots.