What Traveling Alone Has Taught Me About Myself & My Writing

I welcome Elaine Stock today...seems we have a lot  in common both heralding from New York State, writing and working. She has some good advice today. Read on:

I work as a sales associate in the bakery section of a very fast-paced national-chain café. On a typical day I average anywhere between 120 and 135 separate transactions. By the time my weekend off creeps up I oscillate between wanting to be social and wanting to stay clear of all human beings throughout the entire world. I’m by no means a loner but I’ve learned through many moons of life that it’s okay to be alone and to do things by myself. Most writers I know seem to fit well into this semi-escape-from-reality world where we’re pulled—not gently but with deliriously happy force—by the characters our imagination creates and thrust into their world, losing our own.

So, is it that shocking that I’ve traveled some great (at least for me) distances by myself in the name of bettering my writing? Okay, sure, I admit the shrinking economy the past handful of years has made it difficult for my husband to travel with me to writing conferences as we used to. However, I’ve wondered lately if God has had me traveling solo to learn a few things.

My first big trip was driving from upstate New York to Virginia to attend a writer’s workshop. It was the first significant distance for me to drive since I’d regained arm mobility from a neurological injury. Could I do it without major pain? And driving an ancient vehicle, could I put up with crazy highway traffic or finding my way through small towns as I crossed through Pennsylvania, Maryland, and into Virginia? I didn’t know a soul. What happened if my car quit? Or if I quit and needed medical attention?

I survived.

Then came the 3-hour trip into Massachusetts to meet up with an agent at a retreat. Three hours isn’t much, especially compared to the previous trip. However, the light rain coming down when I pulled out the driveway turned into torrential downpours of a hurricane that decided to veer its course and backlash into the bay state. Halfway there I pulled into a rest stop and called home, seeking advice whether to continue on or to turn back. I continued on and up . . . climbed hills and eventually followed this narrow road into no-man’s-land and nearly missed the retreat house that seemed to be hanging off a cliff. I didn’t snag the agent but the lesson on perseverance renewed my determination.

I survived.

I took Amtrak to my first ACFW conference in Minneapolis—a long overnight trip with both some cruddy and beautiful scenery. When the cops searched the train in Rochester (NY) and stared suspiciously at me, well, that was so not interesting. By the way, the only drugs I had were aspirin and the only weapon I carried was a hairbrush. Lugging way too much luggage around and rooming by myself were downers but the joys from meeting some fantastic people—whom some now are dear friends—were well worth it.

I survived . . .and flourished.

Then last year I flew round trip to and from the ACFW Indianapolis conference by myself. Since my husband won’t step foot onto a plane, it was the first time I’d flown since I’ve been married twenty-eight years ago. Other then wondering if a group of unsavory looking men at the airport were terrorists, waiting for another plane at O’Hare since the one had a door that wouldn’t latch shut (not convenient when flying at any altitude), and an ear that felt like it was about to burst, I had the greatest of times and made significant progress, like meeting my new agent.

I thrived.

Life lessons always have me questioning things as they occur. It’s only later on, in hindsight, do I see the value of these life slices. My trips a la solo have pointed out that if I really, really, want something—like pursuing publication—that I’m able to place any fear I have into God’s enormous hands and to let Him handle it.

Just don’t ask me to navigate through the wilds of New York City. God is still whispering in my ear that it’s not necessary to achieve this bucket list feat.

Guest Author Bio:
Born and raised in Brooklyn, and then enjoying the more rural areas of upstate New York, Elaine Stock never expected that a college major in psychology and sociology would walk her through the see-saw industries of food service and the weight-loss business; co-ownership with her husband in piano restoration; and ten years in community leadership. All great fodder for creating fiction. With her first short story published on Christian Fiction Online Magazine, she is represented by Reclaim Management.