Today was the big cross-country move. Instead of sitting in my new apartment in San Francisco, I’m still in Boston, sitting in an airport bar, waiting for my flight. But the way I see it, it wouldn’t be a writer’s big step towards being a proper writer without a bit of drama. And if the past 3 days have been anything, they’ve been drama filled.
It was supposed to be very straightforward – quit work Tuesday, prepare the house Wednesday, supervise the movers Thursday and then catch a plane early Friday. While I did go to the airport this morning, it was sans bags. And the apartment was a mess. And there were no movers because we were without power for 3 days, meaning no light to pack by and no electricity for the freight elevator.
Instead of my nice, tidy plan, disaster struck in the form of a transformer exploding three blocks from my apartment, blanketing the city in blackness and pandemonium. Between the police sirens and loud-speaker announcements, the power company tearing the streets up to install new cables, and the constant hum of diesel generators, I felt like I was in the middle of a disaster zone.
While this was the worst timing, it was a bit fortuitous for this happen to a dystopian writer. Talk about great inspiration!
Even though the move was not as smooth as I would have liked, and even though it’s not even over, at least there is a silver lining. And who knows, maybe I’ll be able to use some of the scenes I witnessed these past couple of days, not to mention learning to cope without power, in a future book that will make me millions. And hey, what kind of writer would I be if I didn’t relish a bit of drama in my life?
