Today I’m feeling happy. Just happy. LAST CHANCE LLAMA RANCH is in copyedits and off my plate for now. I’m working on a new idea–it’s got interstellar bimbos, and comic books, and feminist themes. My friends are by my side and the sun’s out, shining as it does only in Santa Fe. I’m eating stale chocolate cake at Santa Fe Baking Co. and us gals are talking about which is better, Star Trek Voyager or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One can’t ask for much more (except maybe cake that isn’t stale).
Soon enough I’ll be leaving Santa Fe, and there’s real grief when I think about it. Fear, too. Will I come to regret this? Was everything just about to gel for me here, and I’m ‘quitting before the miracle’? I’ve no way of knowing. I only know it felt like time to move on, and so that’s what I’m doing. After a lunatic year of loss and grief and moments of passion I never expected, I need to roll forward instead of drifting in their wake and losing all momentum.
I think I’m ready, and I know I’m grateful for it all.