I shouldn’t walk into bookstores.

As I’ve said before, I live in the middle of nowhere. I find any excuse to go back to my lovely, traffic-congested Dallas. This past Saturday I made a lunch date with my good college friend Cara who I hadn’t seen in months. With her and some of my old college buddies, we started  bi-weekly meeting inspired by the book Making Ideas Happen. Those meetings eventually led to this site design, and inspired me to start blogging more purposefully. 

After my lunch date, I walked into Barnes and Nobles for the first time in over a year. I avoided it now, not because I dislike the chain but simply ’cause Jon and I have a developing book hoarding problem and zero bookshelves. I am constantly getting rid of old books. But as fate would allow it, I wandered into the back of the store  where the reference books are.

I think I sat in the same spot for over 30 minutes, just thinking and reminiscing. I remembered when all I could dream of and think of was landing a book on one of these shelves, even if it was tucked away in obscurity. I remembered the dozens of shoe boxes filled with scraps of papers, poetry and short stories and the never-ending revision of my first novel, Crescent.

Decisions are hard yo

A book on my hobby, a book on my job… I never did make up my mind.

If I were to die tomorrow… The moment I thought this I actually laughed out loud, getting these weird looks from the B&N worker (I was staring off into space). Then I thought how rusty I was and how massive that project had been. But if I didn’t do it now, would another 10 years slip by me as those shoe boxes and old files eventually disintegrate or get thrown away?

Maybe I should reread that book that prompted the resurgence of my creative everything. And maybe I should see being a teacher is a sign that I should use my summers for writing, like I once did. I can’t decide.

  • Tweet!