Happy Summer! Happy Tuesday! Share a bit of yourself with us and we promise to do the same.
I'm still a little sore from the trip to Misery Islands, but not where you might expect. The area around my collar bones ache. It’s the spot where most people get a neck massage. I think it was because I was really tense. Had to quell my thoughts of tipping over and dying at sea–that tension had to go somewhere.
I did remember to breathe, however.
Having made the trip, I feel a great sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I make such arbitrary goals. Going to Misery was like finding Atlantis for me. It’s real. It exists. And I was there.
My task now is to re-read the "Misery Islands" poem to see if there's anything I want to tweak. But I think the poem holds up well considering I wrote it without visiting the islands. I like the poem's mythic quality.
I'll also start the process of selecting the book cover. I'm open to a photo or something more conceptual. I'll work with a graphic designer on the cover, and then I'll submit it to my publisher for approval.
For the record, I only capsized once. It was close to shore and it was because I couldn’t maneuver around a surfer.
Not only did I make it to Misery, I also re-grouted the bathtub on Sunday.
Getting there took about an hour, but getting back too longer and it was hard. I mean HARD! I consider myself in good shape, but kayaking is all upper body strength. When I told Dawn and Marilyn all I could think about was a title of one of Anne Sexton's books, The Awful Rowing Toward God, Dawn recited Emily Dickinson's "Wild Nights, Wild Nights”:
Wild Nights – Wild Nights! (249)
Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Futile – the winds –
To a heart in port –
Done with the compass –
Done with the chart!
Rowing in Eden –
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor – Tonight –