Saturday, May 1, 2010

My life coach had encouraged me to celebrate the completion of my memoir, The Stage Is On Fire. I had been working on the manuscript for well over three years in supportive writing classes, with patient editors, in a coffee shop surrounded by fellow writers who, by their very existence, proved that even in the brutal writing world, people still get books published. I was scared to share the work, but celebration needed to happen, and my friend Wendy graciously opened her doors for the festivities.

The first Saturday in May

I was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. The Kentucky Derby makes the first Saturday in May, and the month prior, truly special. It made sense that the manuscript launch would happen that day. We decided to call it “Out of the Gate” in honor of the race. We would serve Kentucky fare, and people would come in their Derby best. My mom came in from Louisville to help get everything together. We cooked for three days — burgoo, cheese grits, benedictine, pimento cheese, and Derby pie. Of course, we also made mint juleps. The traditional food gave my friends a taste of Kentucky.

Out of The Gate

The party started and friends began to arrive. Most of the people who attended had participated in my writing process as friends who heard the tales of my writing travails, as willing readers of drafts, and as members of writing groups that I was blessed to have been part of during the long writing slog. About 20 or so people from across my world arrived and mingled. Seeing them come together to celebrate the manuscript was humbling, inspiring, and scary. As they began to arrive, I learned how moving the whole experience would be. I felt vulnerable. It was the first time since my dissertation defense — and probably not even then — that I would be sharing myself in such a real and personal way.

The Stage is on Fire

At about 5:30 pm, I read two brief excerpts of my book. (Fear made me shaky and weepy.) I looked over the group and got tears as I explained how much the event and their support throughout the process meant to me. I was nervous and read too fast, but it felt good to share my work aloud in a weight-lifting-fear-shattering way, especially with people who knew and cared about me. I could summon the courage to send it out into the world if I shared it here.

After I finished, I asked my friend Wendy to tell the story of the clock that graced her mantle that afternoon. She told us about her Kentucky-born grandmother, who had placed a Derby bet on a long shot in the 1936 race. Bold Venture won the race at 20:1 odds. Wendy’s grandmother used her substantial winnings (I think she said $40, a great deal of money in 1936) to buy the clock on Wendy’s mantle. My manuscript was a Bold Venture.

Out of the Gate Today

Starting gates and bold ventures are in the zeitgeist today, too. Creativity, compassion, connection, and love can lift us. The projects we want to complete. The relationships we wish to renew and strengthen. The rest we want to find. The joy we want to live. The sunshine we want to feel on our skin. That can happen right now. Find a starting gate. Look at long odds and do it anyway. Initiate a bold venture. We can be bold in our choices. Boldness as vulnerability. Boldness as stillness. Boldness as courage.