In four days, I’m going to paradise. I guess the first step is to get footloose. No, that can’t be right. Being footloose gets you almost to paradise. To get to a Viable Paradise, the first step requires homework. Lots of homework. After all, paradise without preparation likely leads to dystopia.
In this case, homework means reading (which is a kind of paradise in itself.) Since learning of my upcoming trip in May, I’ve gobbled down twelve books, ranging from wonderful to amazing.
No stinkers in paradise.
Then, there’s the mundane. Applying forethought to put out fires before the first spark, meeting the family’s needs in terms of medication, meals, shopping. It also means marching on the In-Box like a D-Day army through the surf. Of course, Paradise is neither self-contained nor homogeneous, everyone has different needs and employs different tactics. Therefore, Paradise requires hours of packing and plotting. Mind you, by packing clothes I pants as well.
There are worries.
Could I find myself sick of Paradise? (Nah, I got a flu shot.)
Am I ready to be receptive?
Can I read between the lines and digest the notes?
Do I know what to ask and how to best contribute?
I know each of my five senses must be primed. Six, if you count the ephemeral. Seven, if you consider the ego. Paradise demands a limber spirit and the ability to cut the bungee cord that keeps propelling impostor syndrome back up to the top of consciousness.
Finally, Paradise demands communication. Somehow that means Slacking. If I feel overwhelmed, intimidated, fearful? Think back to Shakespeare in Love and know somehow “it’ll all work out.” I just need to take a deep breath, turn the ignition and believe I’m ready.
Ready for Paradise.
From October 20th-through the 26th, Andrew Hiller will be participating in Viable Paradise 23; a writing boot camp for science fiction and fantasy writers.
