Five days left. Five days left out of a summer that was both dizzying, long, and mind-awakening. I think every summer has a different flavor, a different fragrance, a different ambiance that leaves me nostalgic and almost happy. For, while I do enjoy the school year, I also revel in long days spent digging away at my inner thoughts, trying to pull up new threads about my stories, and sketching incessantly, trying to capture exactly the right look. This summer held adventure, realization, excitement, and anticipation. I am just entering my junior year of high-school, which is both thrilling and agitating simultaneously. (You would think me a creature with dual personalities, using all of these contradictory descriptors)
This summer I began to understand the root of my passions, the meaning of life–God. It has been amazing, a beautiful revelation. I’ve been learning so many things, gaining fresh perspectives. Some of these changes have been startling, and even frightening. But all the same I am eager to see where God will lead me in the months and years ahead.
I visited the state of my dreams, Virginia. I saw Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello, and even had a guide there indicate the direction of Locust Hill, Meriwether Lewis’s home. That left me a bit too breathless. I beheld the old Blue Ridge Mountains, the ones I describe sometimes in my historical stories. And now I know exactly how to see The Old Dominion in my mind’s eye. I attended a Strategic Intelligence camp at Patrick Henry College, and while I was not lured by the convictions of the speakers that the US intelligence programs needs recruits . . . I was overwhelmed by the experience, and delighted to at last taste PHC life. Best of all, I began to understand God’s miraculous, all-consuming love for the first time in my life.
I began realizing just how much He means to me, and how I’ve just been missing it all this time. He has been quietly revealing himself to me across the months, a patient Savior who is willing to spend time to melt away the coolness I’ve built up for the past few years.
I’ve just started to find the satisfying joy that art brings me, and now I am wondering what part it will play in my college years and beyond.
As for writing, I’ve found fresh inspiration for my dearest story, a novel that has been written and rewritten for the past four years or so. Four years! I can scarce believe it. I started writing it more as “historical fluff-fiction” back in 2010, when I was introduced to early America expanding into the west. From there, it began to develop and burgeon into something unexpected. A legit story! Even now I’m a bit nonplussed at this transformation. From a corny, sappy little fluff-fiction to a novel which I’ve developed and plotted across the past four years, this story has undergone a major change. If it is for the better, then we shall see when I type at last, Finis. And alongside my journey with this book, Strong Hearts, I’ve discovered that stories abound in so many other places, historical and contemporary alike.
Here’s to 2013, and beyond! What shall the autumn bring? What are your plans for the coming season?