It was the lunar New Year this past Saturday. A time of new beginnings. And time to start posting again. It has been a hiatus of 4 years. I write hesitantly because when I first started this blog back in 2010, it was on a dare. And I was anonymous. It was me and a small group friends sharing a delicious secret: the adventures of an unsuspecting city girl turned bohemian. The thrills, the embarrassing moments, the stupidity, and the memorable encounters. The very stuff of life. How liberating it was to shout practically anything into cyberspace and not have it boomerang back to me. I miss that freedom.
I had stopped posting when I put my name to it. Because now, I am known as a person. A writer. An identity. For those of you who are creatures of the moon like me, you understand how terrifying that is. I say “creature of the moon” because I am shy. I like mystery. I like finding out things measure by measure, the gradual beauty of culmination. The others, the sun-people, are much braver. They are “out there.” All at once. They put everything out there, undeterred by consequences or the fact that the internet world, by its nature, is irrevocable. You can never be sure that anything is deleted. You can never take it back.
And there is power in that. To know this and still to be out there in plain view. It takes courage.
So now the challenge is for me to be “out there.”
So here I am.
I wrote a book.
It took me seven years.
I wrote it when I was broken.
I was lost. I cried, I laughed, I did ridiculous things, and somehow I found my way back.
That’s my story. And the story of the book.
Perhaps that is everyone’s story.
And I’d like to share it with you now.
The Fisherman’s Bride. Available on Amazon.
That’s my book.
That’s my way of being out there.
And joining you people of the sun, brave and bold and admirable and incomprehensible.
And I am still petrified.
But I am out there just the same.