Stella getting into the crek

I’m holding on to the ground with both feet lately, y’all. I could use opposable toes. The issues are multiple. Prime among them is just that School’s Out feeling of the summer, probably. My head isn’t on straight. Also, my children are maniacs.

Side note: Do any of you have children who are maniacs? Really? If so…and I admit I kind of doubt your testimony already…what are they doing while you look at the computer right now? Because as it turns out if I look at the computer for more than five minutes in the month of June, my woods-trained wild creatures start to break the furniture.

^^ Serious.

I wrote a post once, a long time ago, about why I do this. Why I blog. I blog because I want to make a connection. I want that thing where the spark passes between us, because I was living a moment fully, and you met me there. I want it just like Jodie Foster in that old movie…you know? I want it not like the rest of the time, when my universe is passing silent beside yours.

June is a month in which many bloggers take a little break. And I’m not announcing that I’m taking a break today, but I am speaking the truth that I feel a need for a little shake up. I’m feeling too much weight. I feel a little like I’m living into my masks instead of stripping them.

Relevant is that I am still in an apartment in the city. A small city. But truly a hipster city. And I can’t write many of the things I love to write from this perspective. Electric lights and vacuuming crumbs off the carpet are something, but they’re also a life I’ve chosen to run away from. With my feet on the carpet of the second floor I feel disconnected and ungrounded. It doesn’t feel quite right to make my point of contact from these details.

Also (confession) I’m just kind of stressed. My book proposal is written and turned in to the copy editor. It won’t be long before What Falls From the Sky — this book I’ve worked on FOR FIVE YEARS — is getting shopped around to people who sit in offices and shop for art for a living and may or may not feel any connection with my bleeding soul I mean, my book manuscript.

Did I mention that I’m in this for the contact? 

A little shake up, I think. I’ve been tricking myself a little by writing stuff on my fb page. This isn’t a bid for growing platform or increasing reach. It’s sort of the opposite, really. Writing on Facebook just feels more off the cuff. I don’t edit. I just write stuff. (Some people use apps for this, yes?) Jumping off like that helps me find my plumb line again, after what feels like a generation of editing and polishing my image for a potential publisher.

Of course I am so grateful to have an agent now. Blair is really great. He doesn’t object to my sharp tongue or my sense of humor, which is a miracle right there. And he’s teaching me so much. But sometimes… Well, sometimes I wish it was still just us. I wish it was still like 100 people whose faces I can picture clearly, and whose responses I can gauge. I wish I knew you as well as you know me.

So hang in with me, will you? Especially you of the early crowd. Especially the ones who believed in me before I had any people on Twitter. And all the ones who believe in me right now. I’m looking for my spark. And I’m pretty sure it’s in you. Now I want to get my authentic voice on straight so I can look you in the eye.

So hang in with me. If I sound funny or stilted or absent or I crop up in unexpected places…just hang in with me. Okay? If I have crises of confidence and occasional blowouts of ego, just hang in with me. I’ll be home in my yurt in July and things will probably settle into a new normal.

And in the meantime, please, go have a bit of the adventure that is June. Please do. From any distance, in the woods or through the window. Go see something beautiful, or see the beauty that is coming to you, and when you see it, think of me. That’s contact, too.