9.30.2015

once in a lifetime

Being the "writer" that I am, I have a pretty active imagination. One that dreams up characters, plots, and the like while everyone else probably uses their creative space to make something more tangible...like a well-cooked meal. Call it a curse. Sometimes I do.

I mean who goes to the gym to work out and leaves with backstories on the guy who used the elliptical or the girl who went for a drink at the water fountain? Sometimes I wonder what else I could be doing that would obviously be much more productive. Like for instance, actually getting a quality calorie burn...c'mon you're at the gym.

So we can blame my imagination when I began reading and fantasizing about a writing retreat on Orcas Island, WA called Write Doe Bay. Several bloggers and writers that I follow have attended this dreamy escape and call it nothing shy of a miraculous experience. A place to open up and learn about your craft. A place to learn about yourself. I have always said to myself that I would love to attend someday, some year. Obviously not any time soon because we are in the middle of school, soccer games, scouts, and working two jobs. Schedule is a four letter word right now.

A few weeks ago I saw an Instagram post on Write Doe Bay's feed. It mentioned an opportunity for a scholarship to attend this fall's workshop. All you had to do was write an essay about why "Write was Right" for you. That imagination of mine heated up quickly before the water of reality extinguished its flame. I thought to myself that maybe, some other time. However, before I closed the opportunity for good I quickly glanced over the end of the paragraph that mentioned one of my favorite authors, Claire Bidwell Smith, would be reading over all of the submissions. This caught my eye. I mean, when in a thousand years, does one of your favorite writers read something that you wrote? I decided that this was something that I could not possibly pass up.

I quickly looked over the submission requirements and before I knew what was happening, I pushed send on an essay I wrote. There it went. Out into the universe. "This is crazy," I said. Later that night, I explained to Mark what I did, "I wanted to put it out there for her to read." No harm in that, right? We went on about our day.

A few days later I got a mysterious phone call from an out of area code. Thinking it was a telemarketer I let it go to voicemail. When the voicemail "ping" let out, I thought it was peculiar that a telemarketer would leave a message. I pushed "listen" and my heart rate started to rise.

"Hi this is Jenn from Write Doe Bay," the voice began. "I wanted to talk to you, please call me back soon."

Was this really happening? Perhaps my essay submission had been computer-hijacked and was only in 01110101 format. Yes, that must be it. They couldn't read it and were wanting clarification...

I took a few deep breaths and called the strange number back.

She answered.

The next few minutes were a blur...

They had read through my essay and Claire Bidwell Smith had been moved by my work. She had said that this writer (me?!) needed to come to the Write Doe Bay retreat. That they both had had this feeling that I needed to attend.

All that I could stammer out was that I needed to talk to Mark. I needed to process this...that I was moved beyond words by their "feeling" and had to take a moment to grasp what this meant.

Was this what worth felt like, as a writer? As a wannabe writer. Was this how it felt to leak into this realm of writing...am I really all that good? Did they read the right essay?

After a long talk with Mark, calls to my manager at work, as well as excited calls and texts to family and friends, we had an answer... I was going to this fall's Write Doe Bay workshop. Tickets bought, flights booked.

There, that happened.

And the countdown is on. One week from today I am headed out to the Northwest. To a place that I've never been. To a dream that has miraculously been made a reality. And I suppose I should walk out now from this fog of excitement and elatedness. But I cannot shake it...I cannot stop smiling about this insane opportunity that I've been given. Things like this just don't happen to me. At least that's what I thought...

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