Reaching for the Alien Shore

This weekend is quite a culmination for me, what with the marriage and all. When I return in about a week’s time, I expect life to be very much different, and yet very much the same. It’s about making real what’s always been just beneath the surface, and it’s about escape.

I shall be roaming New England with Marisa in a rental car. It’s one of those journeys where the destination is completely irrelevant. Along the way I hope to see, hear, and experience all kinds of fun things—but not too much; we just want escape, solitude, time away from the big city. I'll find out if New England's clam chowder is as good as it's supposed to be. I hope it’s cold, I hope it's quiet, and I hope there's some nice curvy roads tucked in amidst all those trees. And I hope at least a few of those trees have held onto some leaves for us. If not, it's all good.

God bless.

The Feverish Flux

You gotta love transition. I'm actually quite accustomed to it. Even relish it, most times—especially when it comes to living space. Adaptation it the simplest level. A change of geography. Granted, I'm only moving a short distance by mileage, though it's 2 hours by subway train.

Tonight is my last night in Brooklyn, and my next entry will come after I've settled in a bit at the other end of this crazy city. I'll have to get by with dialup for a few days, though.

A look ahead: Move, marriage, honeymoon*, adaptation, then write, write, write!

It's time for me to drag this dream into existence...

Word of the Day

It's about friggin' time I find my egress from Brooklyn, that's all I have to say.

* (There seriously needs to be a better word for than "honeymoon." It's so foo-foo.)

Anything In-Between

This is the busiest time of my life. Getting married in a couple more weeks is hardly even part of that at this point! That'll be past soon enough...but after that? There is so much to do, on so many different levels.

This is one thing I'm thinking very hard about right now: The latest open call from Wizards of the Coast. I've already submitted to two before—one more than a year ago, which Kameron Franklin won (good job, man!) and one for the new Eberron campaign setting (we're all still waiting on that one)—but those were a breeze compared to this, as far as sheer work. The reason is, by the time you turn your submission in (March '05), you have to have the novel finished, because once they've chosen the winner, said winner will only have 10 days to get the rest in.

As for the subject matter, it's vague, which is both good and bad: "Our exciting new imprint will publish science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history, magic realism, or anything in-between. If it can be shelved in the Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror section of your local bookstore, we want it! We're interested both in the first book in a trilogy or longer series as well as stand-alone stories."

Yikes.

Talk about time-consuming. This would pretty much have to be the only thing I'd work on. That's a big sacrifice.

Word of the Day

It is the quiddity of these days—the fears, the rapture, and the insanity—that I'll most remember in years to come.

Church & State

This morning, Marisa and I went to get our marriage license at the Office of the City Clerk down in lower Manhattan—only a few blocks from where she and I had met at the World Trade Center 6 years ago. It was pretty much what I expected, yet it didn't take as long as I'd thought it might. Very DMV-like atmosphere. Lots of couples, but the overall mood was weirdly somber.

Marisa was funny. When we were on the way out of the office, she turned to the whole hushed room and said loudly, "Congratulations, everyone!" Then we left, giggling like teenagers. Of course, she meant it (being that she thinks everyone ought to be celebratory about it), but it was still worth laughing about.

I've been up since 5:45 this morning. I'm already exhausted from all the walking around we did, and I'm only now about to start my work day. But it was a good day.

Today was about legality. But by far I care more that the church (as a concept)—or more specifically, God—acknowledges marriage.

Word of the Day

One of the chief benefits of wedlock is the fortune of walking hand in hand with another toward the inevitability of senescence.

Home Base

That's what I've been longing for since forever. A home base. A central location about which I can say with finality, "This is where I keep my stuff." It's amazing how entangled I feel when I always have to decide what to bring with me when I leave where it is I'm living at a given time.

I lug around a backpack every day that's always ridiculously full, because I'm not sure where I'm staying. Will I be at Joseph's Friday night? At Kate's place? Staying at Marisa's? If I go to Marisa's, then I'll need to remember to bring certain things because she has limited internet access—should I need to work on something computer-related. That's less of a problem at Kate's, but I'll also not have as many personal items there to use. Do I pack extra clothes? How many nights will I be there? And I always forget something when I go wherever it is that I go.

But soon, I'll have a home base. And then there's only two states of being to worry about: whether I'm home or I'm not. If I'm not, well then, at least I'll eventually be coming back home again—and that's where everything is. There's a real peace of mind in all this for me, because I'm always so frustrated when I have to think about where I'll be at a given time.

I've had 11 major moves in my life in more than half as many states and countries. All that constant transition has made me long for a place to call home. I have no hometown, but I sure do hope I will one someday. Yet I don't think I'll ever want to send roots too deep that I can't move again. I'll always want that option and wanderlust.

If I have to "settle down," then at least I intend to do so with an Ent's pace.

Update - 10/4

I was tempted to make a post specifically on the Presidential debates, but decided against it. One thing this weblog will not become is a political forum, however small. Suffice to say that for me there really doesn't appear to be a good choice. If anyone says otherwise, it's an opinion—not a fact. Speaking self-assuredly about one's opinion and demanding that everyone agree is missing the point of free speech and democracy itself. I will decide what I will decide, and I've sadly come to realize that even among friends, it's not always good to speak one's mind on political matters. This, for me, will be a private decision.

Okay. Enough of that.

Over the weekend, I visited my grandparents (all four) in New Jersey. I had the opportunity of seeing them all as an adult among them, not merely as a visiting grandson. It was refreshing, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I got to hear some really funny stories, and of course, was asked all kinds of questions about the wedding. Heard some heartfelt and humorous advice.

I also watched The Return of the King again because my grandmother asked if I had it (or as my grandfather remembered it, "The third part of the...Last of the Rings." That was all the excuse I needed to pick up the DVD (I'd planned on merely waiting for the Extended Edition).

That's all for now. I have much to do.

Word of the Day

It is entirely apposite that for me this month is an axis in which time itself has become simultaneously lissome and languorous.