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Ann H Gabhart Ann's Posts, One Writer's Journal

It’s a long way from Kentucky to California and a long way back. Glad I wasn’t walking the way the pioneers did or perhaps jogging along on a horse or in a covered wagon. One thing though, I’d have gotten a lot better look at the country that way. I watched out the planes’ windows (I had window seats all but once) when we weren’t above the clouds. I saw snow-covered mountains. I saw rivers snaking across the countryside. I saw shadows of the clouds on the ground. I saw lots of brown looking earth and mountains and cars that looked like ants trundling along strips of black.
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I also saw a beautiful sunset, but didn’t attempt to take a picture. Once you’re in one of those plane seats next to a big guy, you don’t have room to shift your arm enough to turn a page in your book much less wrestle your bag out from under the seat in front of you to find your camera. Guess that’s why Kindles are getting so popular with travelers. They don’t require more than a whisk of the thumb or finger to get to the next page, or so they tell me. I’m still in the book age, the feel-it-in-your-hands and paper pages age. One good thing, you don’t have to turn off a hard copy book when a plane is taking off.
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Monterey Bay was beautiful and it was fabulous meeting other Books & Such writers. Pictures are popping up all over Facebook. Laughing, smiling faces. Or very intense faces as we all tried to learn how to play Bocce. I had never even heard of Bocce before last week. It’s sort of like horseshoes with rolling balls and no dirt. I played and promptly lost.

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Oh well, I had the ocean vistas to make up for any Bocce disappointments. The water was a beautiful blue and on the last day we were there the waves were crashing into the shore. Because of the rocky coastline, the waves can be fierce. We had thought about going out whale watching, but the boats wouldn’t go out because of the high waves. So we drove down the coastline instead. Just as well. I wouldn’t have been able to spot any whales if I was leaning over the rail losing my breakfast. What I really wanted to see was an eagle, but no such luck. That’s on my bucket list. To see an eagle flying free in the sky.

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But now back home to reality. Books don’t get written by thinking about writing them or talking about writing them. Books only get written by fingers pressing down keys on a keyboard. Still it was great having a little one on one time with my agent and with my editor. They both asked me what next. I said a Shaker book, but they were meaning after the Shaker books. I’m thinking a new historical novel. But that’s what the Shaker books are too – historical novels. So who knows? Now I’ll just remember the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing and think about how each wave made its own new mark on the sandy beach or did its best to wear down the rocks. That’s the way it’ll be with my books. Each one will have to mark out its own path.

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Hope you’re having a great week with lots of paths open to you. Good paths that lead you to happiness. I’m happy to be home and putting me fingers on that keyboard.