It looks like, unless by some miracle I find it in the laundry, the drive is gone and with it, all my work so far on Poppies. Half the book.
I was really upset about it last night but this morning I am trying to look at it with some perspective. I still have my handwritten notes and that will be a big help. I think the saddest part for me right now is that the words will never be exactly as they were. I really had loved what I had so far. But it’s time to start again.
There is an interesting feeling to starting over. It’s a little bittersweet, a little exhilirating, a little nerve wracking. There is aprehension and excitement. It’s a twisting cacophony of emotions. It’s a feeling I have had before. There have been plenty of things in my life to ‘start over’ from. Every time we move, every time I start a new job, every friendship or group that has run its course and needs to be left in the past as I move into the future. Some things are better left behind you, even if it makes you sad at first.
So, I take a deep breath and likely will leave behind all the work that had been done and get ready to start fresh. Summer Poppies. The second time around. Who knows? Maybe it will be even better.