Monday, October 08, 2012

A Writer's Thanksgiving


A lone fisherman stopped directly in front of my window while I sipped my morning coffee. He was experiencing problems. His small boat rocked precariously as he stood at the stern trying to start the motor. I felt sure he would fall overboard. My fingers were creeping to the phone dial to press 911 when it appeared that all was well. He dipped his fishing net into the water – an old superstition that made me smile – and was on his way up the river. Cruisers sped past enjoying the end of boating season for another year. 

The view outside the window is new to me. The dancing waters of the St. Clair River. Friends kindly offered their home as a retreat for a few days while they are away. Seeing the ships go past the window is a novelty to me. Ships that stretch so long that I think they have no end. Jetskis (brrrr....it’s cold for that) frolic in the waves over on the American side of the river. 

The river is not a distraction as I work, but more of an inspiration. Very calming. Especially the ships – especially at night. The lights slowly gliding past the window. I have to peer into the darkness to make out the steel bulk. Eerie in a way, but then I’ve always had an inexplicable fear of freighter ships. Another life perhaps.

My eyes are tired.  The days of my retreat have been long and haphazard.  Eat when I’m hungry and sleep when I’m tired.  I put the manuscript aside and stand for a well-deserved stretch. 

The last ‘t’ is crossed and a period dots the last sentence. My editing is finished...for this round...the second. My chest and throat tighten. My emotions catch me unaware. I wonder where that came from. I think a moment. Yes, another novel completed. By no means finished, as there will be revisions, but the story is written. The beginning, the middle, and the end − although the order may change. It will soon be ready for the first reader.

Before I begin typing the edits into the laptop, I will celebrate.  Afterall, it’s Thanksgiving.  I phone my husband for a chat and an update, and then pour a glass of wine. There’s a plate filled with turkey and all the fixins’ in the fridge.

A stranger delivered it to me on a tray complete with dinner roll, and desserts.  Well, a stranger to me.  Their next-door neighbour, knowing I was here alone, thought I would appreciate it!  And I do!!!  It is delicious from the apple squash casserole to the rich dark gravy.  Such considerate people around; even more reason to give thanks.

It’s dusk now.  My glow is not limited to the lowering wine level in my glass but to the satisfaction of accomplishment.  I’ve shared Thanksgiving wishes with friends on Facebook, checked emails, read the news, and now it is time to flip the manuscript back to the first page and begin transcribing those red words to black.
 
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Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends.

4 comments:

  1. Happy Thanksgiving from Kitchener, Phyllis!

    What a wonderful getaway for writing!

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    1. It is indeed, Patricia. Hope you've enjoyed the holiday weekend!

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  2. Sounds like all is well that ends well. Relaxing, work and reflections all bundled into one lovely package. So glad you enjoyed it. It's Thank Giving all year round isn't it, if we only take the time to reflect on the important things in life. Hugs!

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    1. Very well put, Patsy. Not a day goes by that I don't give thanks for something in my life. Happy to hear that you feel the same way. Cheers and hugs to you!

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