by Molly Greene, @mollygreene
I’ve been AWOL from my blog – and everything else! – from early June until, well, now, but I have an excuse: I sold my house! I’ve been ready for a change literally for years, and it finally happened. Yaaay!
When I listed the property for sale, neighbors, friends, and family all asked the same question, What are you going to do next? … and my reply was always the same.
I had no solid plans.
I was thrilled but there was little time to celebrate, because California escrows can be a bear for the seller. Mine was no exception. The paperwork, inspections, and questions and requests for information were endless. So I went to work the minute I accepted the offer, and the toil was not complete until the day the loan funded. That left little time to consider my options.
I had a few ideas, of course. I’d decided to sell most of my furniture, namely the heavy antiques I’d been hauling around for decades. Since I’ve been downsizing for years in preparation, that was no surprise. I also knew I wanted a small home in a quiet place – but that wasn’t a shock, either, since I’d lived in the mountains since 1999.
An extreme change of scenery!
I assumed when the house sold I’d simply look for a local rental. Which I did, even checked out a tiny cabin for sale, but nothing appealed. So in the midst of the escrow madness, I asked my mother if the dog and I could stay with her for a few weeks in her tiny Pacific Beach home a block from the ocean. Talk about a change of scenery!
Although I was raised in San Diego I’ve been gone – aside from visits – for a while. It’s busy here, crowded. There are people everywhere. Sirens roar by ten times a day. You have to lock your doors, and if you leave anything outside, someone will snatch it. On summer weekends, the traffic is too heavy to take out the car. But Trader Joe’s is half a dozen streets away – heaven! – and the grocery store a three-minute walk. And the ocean is steps away.
Oregon to Baja – the search begins
And I’m still in temporary digs, watching Craigslist, perusing low-priced sales and rentals from the foothills above Palm Springs to La Paz in Baja. My nine-year-old Doberman has complicated the rental hunt, of course, despite his friendly, social, loving demeanor, and I expected that.
Meanwhile, back to work?!
I hadn’t written a word on my WIP since summer, but now I’ve caught up on some edits, uploaded the remainder of my backlist to Draft to Digital to complete my 2016 project to go wide, and am reveling in the fact that I don’t have a mortgage to pay for the moment.
Life is good. I am grateful!
Starting a new chapter – whether real life or fiction – is a challenge, even while it’s exciting. A new beginning brings anticipation, anxiety, and, once in a while, fleeting regret. The questions are the same: Can I do this? Am I capable? Where do I start? What do I need to cover? What actions must I take to move the plot forward? And as with any story, we’ll have to wait and see.
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