As I upload my manuscript into Amazon (waiting on final cover for release into the world), I have mixed emotions.
1. I am pleased that after six years of writing about my favorite moments (and rewriting) the book is FINALLY ready.
2. I am anxious that my attempt to convey the message of thriving humans and community that is found at camp will not come across as hoped for.
3. I am sad for this feels like goodbye.
I let the tears fall and I breathe deeply. Allowing myself the bittersweet emotions that crack open my heart, I'm reminded of that last day of camp when we all say goodbye.
Then I realize that the act of writing this particular story is over. Who knows what lies ahead? And I've never been good at saying goodbyes, anyway. Why did I think this time would be so different? I usually opt for the sneak out the door when no one is looking.
I decide that I will allow myself twenty four hours of all of this mixed up mushy stuff in my head and heart (and stomach). I guess that is the way it is when you love and cherish something like camp, your memories, your book.
Until next time...