That Part of the Roller-coaster Where You Throw Your Hands up in the Air...to juggle

An interesting array of past and present ready to jump into my luggage

When I started my author journey (the publishing part), I likened the journey to that of a roller-coaster climbing the track. Each step one of those clickety clack sounds meant to build anticipation as we climb ever closer to the thrill. Submit to publisher, click. Sign with publisher, clack. Edits, click. Cover design discussion, clack. And on and on until that whoosh free-fall that begins our spinning rush along the track. Throw in another book, climb another hill. Rinse and repeat.

Where am I now on the journey … now that I have three published novels with audio-books and numerous stories in anthologies? Well, I’m at the part of the roller-coaster where you throw your hands up in the air … to juggle. And every time I think I have things cycling like a pro, another ball magically appears.

Have you ever been on a roller-coaster and looked over to the side as the cars ascended clickety clack, approaching that point in the sky where all that is tangible and concrete shifts to the imagined, the possible, the unknown. Sure we see what the coaster looks like from the ground as we saunter by and ultimately decide whether or not to step into the line. But there’s a whole different view from our place in the car … belted and harnessed into place.

To the side, we see a platform… It has stairs that gently descend to the ground at a much gentler pace than what awaits us a mere few clickety clacks away. Have you ever been tempted to step over and take a moment on that platform. Maybe wait for the next car or the one after that to take the inevitable plunge. Yeah, I’m not talking about abandoning the coaster entirely. As tempting as that sometimes is, I boarded this vehicle to ride. And ride I will. But sometimes we need to take a break. To shed expectations, internal or external (I personally find the internal ones much harder to hide from). To breathe without each breath intended to push us forward. Aren’t we already rushing forward at mind-boggling speeds? Speeds that slap us in the face when we do take the time to visit the past…

I jumped over to the platform this past weekend and took a detour to NecronomiCon in Providence, RI.

Isn’t a conference part of the ride? you might ask.

It is and it isn’t. If my author journey is a roller coaster, I would liken conferences to something like a beautiful, colorful, antique merry-go-round. One of those carousels with a mix of endangered species and mythical creatures. A ride that centers me, bringing me back to the joy of my chosen profession.

While it isn’t really possible to gaze at the surrounding scenery, to enjoy our fellow passengers, careening along the coaster track. On the merry-go-round we can enjoy the colorful creatures and our fellow riders, and gaze out at the surrounding world. A journey within a journey.

Are conferences exhilarating and exhausting? Much more so than the merry-go-rounds at the zoo or the park, for sure. But I find it a different kind of exhausting. One that defies reason and leaves me knackered, yes, but at the same time filled with inspiration. Recharged and ready to head back to the coaster, to figure out next steps now that I have opened a door and seen that there are steps to ascend.

And since this conference was a hop and a skip away from my childhood home, my path back to the roller-coaster meanders through an odd mix of past and present. Shadows and echoes entangle themselves around the woman I am today, tugging me back at the sight of an old friend or acquaintance, a tree I used to climb. The unfamiliar new backdrop creating a confusing and frustrating barrier, with the past securely tucked behind it.

As if I’d want to travel back even if I could! I’ve seen that young girl ... that look in her eyes. She doesn’t want me to come back, to erase all the progress she worked so hard to achieve. She knows it’s hard to remember the pain once we’ve moved beyond it. She is there to remind me.

So back to the coaster I go, over and across the miles between here and there, then and now. Inspired, recharged, and grateful. Ready to jump back on the ride, fasten my belt … and juggle!