Well, shit. I don’t know how to say this but, I sort of did a thing. A thing I’m not sure if I’ll regret or not. Or if it will destroy my life, my writing and my sanity. But… remember last week’s post? No? Go back and read it, I’ll wait….

Okay, so now that we’ve established that the heart is a weird and dumb critter who regularly drives us off of cliffs, the big, weird news is that I went ahead and veered my Studebaker straight off the cliff into taking over the Director position and ownership of Writing Heights Writers Association. Yep. I’m soon to be in a position of authority and that’s…the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.

But the fact is, my heart did it. Because I love this group. I love it’s members and its potential, and the things it can do for writers, in their struggles and grief and in their times of triumph. Because I believe in writing and I believe in writers. And I couldn’t see it fizzle and die out. And I’m definitely not guaranteeing it will thrive or even survive, but I made the choice based on a tenement I hold pretty close to my heart. It comes down to something I spoke of last weekend at the RMFW Colorado Gold Conference (I hope you made it) about Fear.

I have to credit a good friend with a phrase I heard in one of his lectures. Safety is not a place we learn anything. You could keep your Studebaker on the road, safely from one point to the next, never look around, never make a pitstop, and be the same damn person you were when you left as when you arrive. It is by throwing ourselves into the stupid and weird, and impossible that we grow. That we learn. That we discover. And what in the hell is life for, if not to discover?

I can’t run it the same way anyone else did before me. I’m not a smooth operator, I don’t have vast amounts of clout or money, or talent for that matter, (haha). But I’ve got this jabberwocky heart of mine. That’s a little wild, and a little goofy, and all about joy and puppy-like enthusiasm. All gnashing of teeth and snickering of snacks. Too full of love to ever make exactly the right decision. Sometimes it can’t even make the most practical one. But safety is not a place we learn anything. Practicality is a tether we’re given to remain docile.

So in the coming months I’m going to be gearing up to take over (starting officially in January). I’ll be trying to learn about processes, current issues facing writers, networking, and taxes and community building and all that wonderful and horrible stuff that nobody taking classes or going on retreats will have to think about. I’m going to think of my writers and my amazing team first, and my comfort second. I’m going to do my best to keep the heart of this thing wild, but filled with enough love and compassion to be reliable. I may be reaching out to some of the amazing and beautiful people I know to ask for advice and warnings. I’ll probably need to lean on friends until I find my balance.

All I really need to do now, is to make sure there are some good plotters on my side, to keep me from pantsing this thing into the ground. Stay tuned, and we’ll go on this ride together. Maybe we’ll even learn something.