Watershed

And then there’s always retrospect (when you’re looking back)

To light a clearer path

Every five years or so I look back on my life

And I have a good laugh

My day job has sent me to Rochester, New York for training several times this summer. This weekend, faced with yet another lonely weekend in a hotel, I decided to make the two-hour drive south to Watkins Glen State Park. Being a 90s dyke at heart, an Indigo Girls car concert seemed in order. Just as Seneca Lake came into view, my favorite song, “Watershed” blasted through the speakers. Most fans will balk at my choice of favorite song, but it has a personal meaning for me beyond anything “Power of Two” or “Galileo” could offer.

As I hopped out of my car and made for the trailhead, “Watershed” still rattled around in my brain. Watkins Glen is a beautiful shale gorge cut by a series of waterfalls. The path is well-maintained (if not as accessible as one would hope), with a series of stone paved twists and turns behind and beside the raging water. It is, in a word, stunning.

One of my favorite things about this hike was that, when beginning at the Upper Entrance, all of the best views are behind you. I was thoroughly engrossed in the dripping foliage and moss-draped shale walls of the gorge when I noticed the folks coming from the opposite direction dragging cameras and phones from pockets and bags. Turning, I was greeted with the source of the roaring filling my ears. Right beside the staircase I had just descended was a twisting, tumbling waterfall. The view was breathtaking. And if I’d continued forward, I would have missed it entirely.

My feet were on a path where, as you walk forward, you must turn around to appreciate the beauty of where you’ve been. Life often requires the same retrospect, as Amy and Emily tells us through the bars of their song. So, when I got to an overlook with a convenient stone bench (only slightly dampened from the drip of water down the gorge walls), I took their advice and looked back over the last five years of my life.

In December 2016, I woke up one morning and realized that the manuscript I’d been toying with for the better part of a year was the best book I could make it. I loved the characters and I loved the story. I just didn’t know if anyone else would. But Linda and Jessica Hill did and they sent me a contract to publish my debut novel with Bella Books.

I learned a lot in 2017. Visiting Hours was published and Bird on a Wire got a contract, too.

In 2018, I embarked on a new scary journey. I flew to Las Vegas and picked up my badge to attend my first Golden Crown Literary Society (GCLS) conference. You never know what you’ll find when you join a new group. What I found was a family. A group of like-minded artists and fans. A community like I hadn’t had in a long time. It was a lifechanging experience.

2019 brought changes in my personal life. My wife and I moved across the state and I started a new day job. The learning curve for that was just as steep as it was for writing, but both were fulfilling in a way I hadn’t expected. All the while I was making friendships that would prove immensely beneficial to my writing career. I picked up a handful of fantastic beta readers and they helped me think about my work from different angles. And I won a Goldie! Bird on a Wire is a special book for me, and having it honored by my peers was more than I could ever dream.

Of course, 2020 brought highs and lows. The pandemic meant the cancellation of GCLS, but I found a way to connect with my writer friends anyway. I organized a group of incredible authors for Save the Date, a collection of short stories. I also managed to publish two books for the first time!

This year has been another year of incredible change. My wife and I both started new jobs that necessitated not one but two big moves. But Save the Date landed and led to a couple of readings at local lesbian bars, including the one where I first danced with my wife many (many) years ago. On the same day, Swipe Right was born into the world.

Looking back over the last five years, I see so many wonderful moments. It makes me excited to see what the next five years will bring. I’m sure when that day comes, I’ll look back and have a good laugh.

Oh, one last thought- sometimes, when you spend too much time on retrospection, you don’t make it back to your car before the storm starts…