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| Image copyright Lori Gravley |
2019 has been a difficult year. A young man I considered a third son died at the end of 2018. A friendship that I thought would last a lifetime ended painfully. My marriage of 28 years gave its last gasp. My dog is dying. My mother’s Alzheimer’s has become so apparent even she admits she might need some help. My younger son has made some difficult and painful choices on his journey to adulthood. Yep, suckity for sure.
Many of the difficulties are still in flux. I live in a 128-square-foot trailer that was once my office behind the beautiful 1880s farmhouse that I’ve worked hard to make a home but that we’ll be selling in the new year. We’re filing the dissolution papers in the new year for financial reasons even though it’s painful to have to interact and just seems to be prolonging the suffering. My son’s choices still haven’t resolved themselves. My dog is dying slowly, and while I’m glad to still have her companionship, it's difficult to see her suffer.
But my word for 2019 is flourish, and, you know what, in many ways, I am. I’ve almost completed a new professional credential. I’ve sent my work into the world. My writing is stronger than it has ever been. I love my vintage trailer, and this year I bought a van. Next year, I’ll live part-time in my trailer on my mom’s property, helping my stepfather care for her; part-time in hotel rooms for work; and part-time in a 21-foot Ram Promaster that has been made into a beautiful Winnebago RV. My tiny dreams are coming true in interesting ways. I am hurting. I am grieving. But I am flourishing.
This year will be my eleventh NaNo and my tenth win. I’ve built a new young adult world and made some interesting plans for this year’s novel, and I have an outline for another adult romance that I’ll draft in 2020 (I was prepared early, but then I changed my mind and decided to write YA instead). The trick or treaters are knocking on the door, and I’m still working on my beats, but that’s okay. I’ll wake up tomorrow, plan some, write some, downsize and pack a little more, and snuggle with my puppy.
Really, I’m always writing in the middle of some sort of chaos. But aren’t we all. When I first participated in NaNo, my son was twelve. I wrote while my husband was in Iraq. I wrote through our first separation. I wrote when my older son and his then-girlfriend (now wife) moved to town for college and grad school.
Someone said to me a couple of weeks ago, “There are other months you can write novels in.” And I do write all year long, but I love the wonderful collective energy that is NaNoWriMo, and I welcome this creative collective as a still point in the middle of my shifting world.
