On Thursday night I was giving away a few books to some friends. One friend had asked for the book on Cat’s Cradle I had edited. Because he seemed more interested in it as a work that I had created/compiled than as a collection of criticism, I gave him copies of the literary journal I had stared almost twenty years ago (my minor contribution to the literary world). As I gave it to him, I told the story of a dumb college kid (me) with a passion for creative writing and a credit card who tried to publish a professional-looking journal of poetry and fiction.
Earlier in the day (and for a good portion of the night before), I was getting comfy with the idea of not having a plan. For months, the plan has been to finish up work, keep applying for jobs, and if nothing turns up take an extended road trip. Because nothing has turned up, and because I’ve begun the process of downsizing, I began to really think about the logistics of the road trip. As I thought about logistics (where am I going and how am I going to do this), it occurred to me that I might be over-thinking it and over-planning it. All I really need to do, is plan for the next stop along the way and be open to far-flung detours.
When I first concocted this scheme, I had planned on taking the southern route. I looked at visiting Richmond, Charleston, Birmingham, Memphis, (maybe Clarksdale), Austin, Sedona, (maybe somewhere else in the NM/AZ area), San Diego, and then driving the Pacific Coast Highway. That’s the efficient version of me trying to plan something out. These past few days, I began telling myself that I don’t have to be any specific place at any specific time. I began to realize that I could put the bulk of my stuff in a storage pod and live out of hotels, campgrounds, and my car and go wherever I feel like going. I can apply for jobs from the road, take zoom interviews in hotel rooms, pick up freelance work and maybe some day-labor along the way… but the rest of my time can be spent exploring, hanging out, seeing things, reading, writing, walking, and driving. I don’t have to be efficient. If I want to go out of my way and drive a day or two into the middle of the country, I can. I can zig. I can zag. I can lounge and loaf. It’s only, miles, gas, time, and money.
I’m sure I’m underestimating the challenges (and costs) ahead. I’m sure there will be many moments of discomfort and uncertainty. For one, I’ve never camped in my life, I’ve only stayed in a handful of dive hotels, and I think I’ve slept in my car twice.
As I told my friends about what it was like to start a literary journal, get it reviewed in national magazines, and sell it in half a dozen cities around the country all while knowing nothing about publishing, I began to have a new appreciation for how ignorance breeds boldness. I had no idea what I was doing back then, and I suspect knowing better might have dissuaded me from trying. For some (and I might be among them), when we don’t know what success or failure looks like, and when we do things for the sake of doing them, we tend to hold back a little less.
As I thought about these things, I began to recognize that some of my best and most memorable experiences in life have come from unscripted moments, taking leaps, and winging it. Whenever I’ve traveled, it’s been the stumbled upon gems that have stood out. I’ve done some of my best work when I’ve had to learn new skills, programs, and processes. I tend to find more joy when I keep the neurotic, little, over-thinker, over-planner in check and go with the flow.
And I think that’s the plan… Starting in September, I hope to visit family and friends in Bucks/Philly and Pittsburgh, and then head south to the Blue Ridge Mountains… and then see where the road takes me.