Hey friends,

I just got back from a girls’ trip to Vegas!

We ate. We drank. We gambled. WE WENT TO A KARAOKE BAR! It was a time!

And then, we got on our flight back to New Jersey. Forty minutes in, we had to turn around and go back to Vegas because the check engine light came on. While I personally have been driving with my check engine light on for about two years, I appreciated that the pilot felt it in our best interest to not do that.

Back to Vegas we went, where we sat in the United lounge until our 9:30 PM flight. I have been sleeping for the last two days.

But I digress.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was working on a project. Well, I am pleased to announced that that project has been finished and is out in the world for judgement.

I guess I can say it here. I wrote a novel.

This isn’t the first novel I’ve written. I queried about 70 agents for my first novel. All no’s. And decided to put that novel aside to work on my most recent project.

I am ready for the no’s. It’s part of the process. But it stings.

While I was in Vegas, I had a bit of a rough moment, just feeling a total sense of bleh that I couldn’t put my finger on until I remembered this sense of bleh from the last time I queried a novel. Cut to me sitting in a bathroom stall at the Bellagio crying my little heart out, then wiping away my mascara and funneling money into the Willy Wonka slots.

In her book, Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert talks about how every venture we embark on comes with its own shit sandwich, all the stuff that absolutely sucks but that you have to take because it’s part of the package. Rejection is the shit sandwich of creative pursuits. Silence is the lettuce on that shit sandwich when you send your work out into the world and hear the sparkling sound of nothing.

Even though it sucks, I’d choose this shit sandwich every time. However, I am allowed to have feelings about the shit sandwich. I do need to get better about not getting stuck in the quicksand of the shit sandwich.

The writing journey is one I never thought I’d be on. I always wanted to write a novel, but never had the time or energy. And now I’ve written two.

There’s a poem that I love that I wanted to share here about the importance of the journey rather than focusing on how happy you think you’ll be once you reach your destination.

Ithaka by C.P. Cavafy

I hope that one day I reach Ithaka, and that there are many more Ithaka’s to be reached after. Maybe what I’m aiming for isn’t Ithaka, but some other beautiful stop on my journey. I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know that I’d ever be where I am today. So, who knows what’s in store?

(I also realize that Ithaka is probably a bigger metaphor for life and death. However, literary interpretation is subjective, right? Right.)

So, I’ll keep going. Because what else is there to do? And in the end, that’s the only way to chase a dream.

Until next time, friends. Keep going.