It’s Easter weekend and my sister just had her second baby and the boys are on “Spring Break.” Springtime in The South, and our car is covered in pollen, my head has felt thick and my eyes are itchy and swollen. But it’s beautiful, the azaleas are in full bloom and purple wisteria hangs from the trees sending sweet smells through the air when the wind blows. I’m waiting to hear back from my third and final proofreader before I start sending out my query letters for Dreaming About Water. I feel like I’m on the brink of something, like I’m standing at the edge of the high dive, looking over, scared to jump.
I’ve been re-reading my old journals, trying to put myself back in the time frame of adolescense. I’m reading Mary Karr’s memoir Cherry, http://www.amazon.com/cherry-mary-karr/dp/0330485768/ref and it’s time to jump. I’m ready to start writing but I’m scared too, scared to go back to that time in my life that was painful and careless and thrilling. Scared to be submerged in my diabetes. I’ve spent my life putting my disease in the background and I’m scared to see it, feel it, taste it front and center.