Anything in English

I lived in Paris spring semester of my junior year of college. I had classes just four days a week and a two week spring break, so I traveled A LOT. I didn’t make it everywhere I wanted to, but I managed to visit other regions of France, England, Ireland, Italy, Switzerland, and Austria. Of course, I didn’t go to these places alone—at the very least I took my one close friend with me. (I probably wouldn’t have left the cozy confines of Valpo if she hadn’t wanted to go to Paris, too.) And the thing is, I don’t know what I would have done without her. Seriously, when you get in a jam, there’s nothing better than having a fellow American you can trust at your side.

Take Austria, for example. Neither my friend nor I spoke more than a word or two of German. Sure, most Europeans in major cities speak some English, but when you’re switching trains in the middle of nowhere Austria and you have no idea what the signs say and there’s no one to ask, at least you’ve got a friend who’s just as lost and isn’t going to go anywhere. And yeah, The Sound of Music tour was in English, but for the most part cities like Vienna and Salzburg are pretty hardcore German (well, okay, Austrian).

Italy wasn’t much easier, though between our French and my Spanish we were able to at least guess at most of what we needed to know.  We even managed a couple of times to stop by a grocery store and not frustrate both us and the Italians behind the registers. We did not, however, figure out how to ride the Venetian buses (aka boats).

Even France was a little tricky sometimes. When my friend and I visited Mont St. Michel, we almost got caught in an ocean riptide while trying to circumnavigate the watery sand around the island. Luckily, there were a couple of cute French guys there who’d tried the same thing and learned their lesson. We didn’t understand every word they said, but after they repeated it once or twice, we got enough—GO BACK.

Then there was Ireland. You’d think that’d be easy—they do speak English…right?—but some Irish people have accents so thick that you’d swear they were speaking a foreign language. And no, they weren’t speaking Gaelic. Trust me, I checked. The day I had to go to the American Embassy and couldn’t understand a word the guards at the gate were saying…well, that was one of the roughest days I’ve spent in any foreign country.

Before that semester, I’d never really understand what it was like to be unable to communicate with words. That semester made sure I learned that. I also learned a lot of ways to communicate without a common language. Even so, we ran into some rough times. Sometimes during one of those situations, my friend and I would joke that once we got back to the States, we’d be able to do anything as long as it was in English. Yep, anything.

Since I’ve started this writing quest, I’ve been thinking about that a lot. Anything in English? There are days where I want to laugh at my college self. That’s not to say I’m not trying to write novels, edit and revise them, query them, get them published…but it’s a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. (Except for the writing part. I’ve always been able to do that. I’m wordy.) It’s one thing to do something; it’s another to succeed at it.

That’s not to say I’m not still trying, because believe me, I am. Since I started my latest WIP a few weeks ago, I’m up to 35,000 words…which is A LOT. It’s, like, halfway. I’ve also got this query I love for my latest manuscript, which has been revised so much that I’m not sure it’ll let me revise it anymore. I’ve got this blog, my critique partners, and I’m part of street team to help promote Carey Corp and Lorie Langdon’s newest Doon novel. Things are great.

Except there’ll always be this college me who thought anything in English would be possible. Maybe that me was right—maybe it’s possible I’ll find an agent and publish a book. But there’s no guarantee.

I’m going to keep at it, though. I’m pretty determined. I’m also more realistic than I was when I started this quest…which, initially, wasn’t long after I got back from that semester in Paris. But when people say they know I’ll succeed, sometimes I want to punch them. (Even worse are people who say so flippantly that maybe they should write a book, too—like this is such an easy thing and they’ll just do it and be done and famous and rich and happy.) I don’t need encouragement here, just support and understanding. Be on my side, like my friend was in Europe.

Like any good quest, this one’s long and hard. But if anything in English is possible, I have to keep hoping that tomorrow will be the day that possibility becomes reality.