Today I am writing you from New York City. When we moved away from Brooklyn two — yikes almost three — months ago, I wondered when I would come back. Moving back to Texas was a bag of mixed emotions and fears for me. Going home again is supposed to be off limits, or so Thomas Wolfe said. He meant this metaphorically, because when leave, you change and so home is different by your changing.
Being back in Texas has been being home again. I reacquainted myself with old haunts. I have taken aimless drives around the rolling, grassy farmlands and through old neighborhoods. I have watched horses frolic in the dawn light after a rain.
I have also finished the most grueling revision of my MS so far.
It has been right to be home again, so when I decided to come to New York, I was leery. Ruffled. My panties and my feathers were in a bunch. More than anything, New York was where I found myself. It was where my husband, son and I branched out on our own to see what we could do. It was prosperous, but also it forced examination, and forced all of us to learn better who we could be. (Yes, even my darling, three year old, Sam.)
When we left, we were ready to go,and I was afraid that the identity forged in New York — the one where I learned I was really a writer —would vanish. Like identity could be removed by a location change.
I do think that is something the City convinces you of, if only in retrospect. That you cannot leave lest you abandon the hope of a future.
When we arrived last night, I was filled with that same nervous energy that first found me three years ago: on my first visit to New York City. It is a powerful thing, standing in the City, feeling the possibility of it pulse around you like a living, breathing organism. You become part of that possibility.
Today I write you from New York City because I go to Random House for author events and mingling. No, I’m not taking a meeting there, but maybe someday. Mainly, if I’m being entirely honest, I am going to see Lauren Graham. Lorelei Gilmore. I will not even pretend to be cool about this. Not even the tiniest shred.
We also came to keep channels open to bosses and agents and all those we love up here. And therein lies the point to it all. We are planted where we are planted, but our branches can extend over state lines and city sky scrapers.
It’s going to be a beautiful day in the City.