My bags were packed, boxes stacked, and escrow was closing. We were downsizing, and moving from the city where we lived for the past forty-three years. We didn’t have a new house to move into, not yet. While we searched for another home we would live in a (luxurious) 26-foot travel trailer on land a family member owned in the redwoods in Northern California.
The morning our belongings were loaded onto the moving van, I walked through the empty house thanking the space, saying goodbye to the home that sheltered my family for three decades. And before I got into my car to make the long drive, I checked my email.
An editor at the University of Nebraska Press sent an email saying she liked the manuscript for my new memoir. The press was interested in publishing, and asked for revisions.
Oh, for joy. Happiness. And crazy-making. Take on the task of revising my book manuscript when I was in the process of uprooting my life?
Recently the editor of Women Writers, Women’s Books invited me to write an essay about writing my new memoir, We Who Walk the Seven Ways. I greatly enjoyed wandering back over the years writing and remembering.
Read my essay High Tide in the Redwoods: Memoir, Migration and This Wilderness in My Blood.