I was traveling with my husband for a week in Sicily, enjoying the vibrancy of the green hills, the different shades of green and yellow and pink that cover the land in early spring, trying to describe it in my head, feeling incredibly lucky that I am able to travel all over the world. As we drove through the country side we talked, as we often do, about what else is on our "Bucket List."
For the first time I realized that my bucket list consists of only one thing now: finish and publish my book. And after that, write another one (I already have ideas swimming in my head). It isn't that I've accomplished everything else I want to do in the world. It isn't that I have been everywhere in the world I want to go. It is that nothing right now is as important to me as giving life to my characters and putting them out there in the world.
The act of writing validates me, roots me in the world as nothing else does. I just got home and I am focusing on this one big goal; I will not stop until it is accomplished.
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