“What are you going to do in New York?”
It’s a logical question when you move to a new city. My neat and tidy answer catches people off guard: love every minute of my life. Someone cracked me up yesterday when they responded, “No, really. What are you going to do here?” My answer stands.
I do have some more specific answers for more specific questions. For work? I’m looking at many avenues that bring together my passions and my talents. For love? I’m dating. For my writing? I’m promoting my first novel, writing the prequel chapter by chapter, writing my second novel that is the next in the series about Emerson Page, and pursuing freelance nonfiction writing. For fun? Phineas and I will be enjoying our long walks in the park. I’ll be spending time with my wonderful friends here, and making new ones. I’ll be at the theater, in the museums, listening to live music, creating art, and following every interest I have. I’m hoping to teach writing classes, mentor young people, and volunteer in my community. I’m going to try to learn to play a real song on the piano.
Anything can happen here in New York City, and it often does. While the city has a reputation for making people hard and tough, I think it’s much easier, and more enjoyable, to be a little soft. People can be gruff and self-absorbed. You have to stand up for yourself and then shrug it off. This city moves fast and carefully crafted plans have a way of disintegrating at the most inopportune times. Flexibility is key. If your dream today doesn’t work out, tomorrow you’ll have a new one. That long night of disappointment in-between is a tough thing to endure but you have to endure and persist and be determined to keep rising in spite of it all. New York is a tall order, and it’s the only one that really fits me.