Loose Gravel

When I was about twenty-five, my soon to be husband and I were invited to go along with some friends on a Mazama sponsored climb of Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. We went, not knowing that two years later the summit of Mt. St. Helens would be gone, blown away by an eruption we witnessed from the front yard of our North Portland home. We'd had our one chance to make it to the top of the mountain. Jim made it, I did not. I'm glad he made it to the top of Mt. St. Helens, because his life was cut short, and I am still here climbing mountains. Even if they are only of the metaphorical type.

We slept in a tent at the base of the climb and got up about one am. Our leader took us up the mountain. Prone to joint issues, my right hip started hurting part way up the mountain. By the time we were within a short distance of the summit, I was in such pain, I had to give in and let the others go without me. I cried my way back down the mountain. Our leader asked me if I was crying from the pain. I said, "No". Sometimes it seems like my life has been one long series of getting to ninety percent. In most cases, ninety percent is good enough. But just once in a while, you want to finish something all the way to one hundred percent of completion. You know, like once a year when you get your taxes done and you know they are complete. It's such a good feeling.

This blog is about novel writing. You can see where I'm going. I'm hooked on metaphors it seems. Here's another one. Writing a novel as mountain climbing. You have to prepare for it. It takes a long time. You have to learn skills you didn't have before. You have to be patient. The goal is to reach the summit. Along the way, you encounter encumbrances, steep patches, loose gravel, ice. You have to get there on your own two feet, but it helps to be part of a team, as occasionally you'll need to "rope up" for safety. Having a leader is not necessary for seasoned climbers, but for first timers, it can be very useful, maybe even essential.

I'm at a loose gravel spot right now. Slipping and sliding on a vocabulary of terms so numerous it does feel like I might slip and choose to give up. But unlike climbing Mt. St. Helens, this time giving up is not an option. The last thirty-five years have taught me many things, but one in particular, in order to have what you want, you've got to be tenacious, patient, and dedicated. And sometimes all you really have to do is not give up. Breakthroughs happen, problems that looked as tall as a mountain turn out to be scalable after all and may even lead to a new way to the top. Someone very wise once said to me when we lose someone close to us, we can do the things they can no longer do, thinking of them, honoring them. Jim always wanted to write a novel. Funny I forgot that till just now.

More later.