Fish and Fear and Friendship
One evening in the spring of 2012, I sat down and wrote a story. I titled it The Fishing Well. Today, October 15th, 2018, it goes on sale. Oh Friends, I’m so excited!!!!!! Just another step of many in a dream journey that in many ways, as Karen Carpenter so beautifully sang, “We’ve only just begun.”
Back in 2012, unknown to me, Joe had purchased the site address and email. He does this on occasion with my idea musings, just in case. I seriously wonder how many site name ideas and emails are attached to me at this point. This was around same time I was talking about a someday blog for parsing chronic pain experiences among other things that he brilliantly named Pensive Impulse. My Joe is a marvelous man!
Over the next six years, hundreds of verse, lines and rhyme made appearances in the book. Most didn’t make the cut. I pinned a concept sketch onto the wall beside my studio computer. I filled a book with stick-figure fish.
I dreamed. I imagined. I hoped. I worried. I was afraid. I wrote out the last line of the book and taped it to the bottom of my computer screen. I have looked at it every single day for these past six years. It is my battle cry.
In 2013, after years and tens of procedures and a few surgeries, I underwent my first joint fusion. In 2014, I left my job to manage my pain. In 2015, our home flooded in a freak weeknight storm, displacing us ten months for the rebuild. Then came the panic attacks. In 2016, another joint fusion surgery. After a panic attack that landed me in the hospital, convinced I was dying, one summer day in 2017, I knew what I had to do. Life is so short. Not only is it short, but unpredictable and just not worth the angst. Come what may, I was going to face a certain fear. I was going to fish.
A few weeks later, I approached my friend, so sweet, so immensely talented, in commission of pages to accompany this dream. Not even a month later, Harvey hit. Yes, our home flooded again, but nothing like the first time; abated due to a flood control project behind our home. We were able to live in our home during the repairs. Some very real PTSD but otherwise, stronger still from having gone through more Life.
In refrain of my first blog post, I must thank the dear hearts who have toiled mightily with me for this labor of love and dream. My heart cries out thankfulness daily, which still doesn’t feel like enough.
One year to the month, my friend, the ingenious water-color-breather-into-fearfish life, delivered spectacularly painted layers of wonder and whimsy. Erin, your talents are remarkable and stunning, my friend, and a true gift to this world. I am so utterly grateful you are in it to share with us! To share with me. Randomly, I text you of your awesomeness, do let me know when it gets obnoxious. For the privilege of being your friend and for this treasure, I Thank You.
My forever friend, Tara, who at seven years old informed me Santa did not exist, put her discerning editing skills to work, answering texts, emails, calls, carrier pigeon messages from 1300 miles away at all hours, day and night. “Yes that gets a hyphen, no that does not. Are you sure that is even a word? For the love of God, woman, use the oxford comma.” Is it too cliche or silly to say, “You complete me.”?? For your enduring support and for this treasure, I Thank You.
To my life-journey-partner, refuser-to-let-me-give-up-or-become-a-recluse, my love, my Joe, whom I could never afford to hire if we were not married. When we met almost twenty years ago, I told you I wanted to be a writer and you told me I had it all wrong, that I already was one. Your steadfast support, creative love and astonishing talents have been rich soil for growth. You taught me to follow my calling, no matter what. For your gifted compilation, layout and design, website creations and handling of book logistics, and come one - just the awesome affable guy you are - for the countless ways you love me and especially for this treasure, I Thank You.
My panic attacks have subsided. Dimished is my fretting about what might happen next. Life will happen and it will always be an incredible undertaking to embrace.
And I must thank one last friend - Life Seasons. For all we’ve endured, I am thankful for the blessings of You. For those floods, for pain, for Data Points, for joys and stars that shine brighter because of those things, for a nomadic spirit in reminder that none is ours to hold so tightly, stuff or souls. I tell my bugs, “We must love the living loosely.” It’s normally so they don’t kill whatever creature they are holding, but it applies here. Your unknown adventures and mortal truths pledge magic and mystery for each new day. For this treasure, I Thank You.
And Friends, may we always Fish Well.
Check it out!! — The Fishing Well
The paperback is on sale now - discounted as promo!
The hardcover is available Wednesday Oct 17th, but you can still order now.
The eBook is coming soon!