A Note From Where I’m At

Not here, in this pic, with my daughter Evangeline.

In this pic, we’re grinning because we’re about to jump (or ease) into our favourite swimming hole. Which was—and is—even more spectacular than it looks.

And I’m not here with Jannette Vusich—Evangeline’s former prof (and a current Mimifesto fan) who has become a good friend to both of us—delighting in a reunion at her new home in Cape Breton, where she fed us before we got on the ferry to Newfoundland.

And not here—at my Woody Point kitchen table, where Evangeline was turning her attention to comix and writing, after many months of other things.

No.

Where I’m at right now, is back from the airport, where I dropped Evangeline off for her flight home to Halifax.

It’s a particular kind of place. Maybe you know it: where you feel the absence of someone you love intensely—and want to make that absence count for something.

Every day while Evangeline and I were together, we worked a bit on our creative projects. For her, that meant beginning to plot out a new blog (and possible book) about pro-wrestling. For me, that meant brainstorming the next story I’m eager to tell, after the current novel is finished.

I don’t mean to suggest that’s all we were up to. There were late nights with friends, and there was silliness. There were walks with the dog by the water. There were pyjamas and thrillers. And, in my usual annoying-mother fashion, I made her go through boxes of things from other summers, to determine what could be kept and what should be thrown away.

And whenever we drove somewhere, we did it to the sound of a mutual favourite book: On Writing, by (a man we like to call) Little Stevie King.

Even after Evangeline got out at the airport, I kept listening.

By the time I got home, my melancholy at Evangeline’s departure had combined with Stevie’s voice in my head to make me realize something: I want to seize this time for my writing. Completely.

Oh, there’ll still be dips in Middlebrook Pond and some coffees with friends. Tomorrow, I look forward to recording an episode for my friend’s new podcast (more details when it debuts). And in September, I’ll be joining Rhonda Douglas’s Writers’ Flow Studio to discuss “Bringing Characters from Cut-Out to Complex.”

But The Mimifesto—and my coaching practice—are going on hiatus until October.

Until then, I’ll be making the quiet time count.

Telling myself stories.

So that later, I can tell them to you.