Up Hill

Its ten miles. Up hill all the way, a very different commute from a flat mile to the Tarpon Springs Public Library where I use to meet with other writers. And easy walk. Not a trying climb on bike.

At Kona Stories, an independent bookstore in Kealakekua, there is a writers group that meets on Thursdays. I attended last week. The group had a guest writer, Ellisa Elliott, promoting her book Eve, a novel of the first woman.

Of Scandinavian stock her presence dominated the tiny lanai where we, the aspiring writers, sat in a circle of chairs to seek advice on the acquisition of an agent, and publisher. Her own story filled the breezy altitude with enough electrons to power a small city. With her can do attitude she admitted that not until she left her writers group was she able to seize the task of researching and hunting down an agent that might be interested in taking her on as a client. The process is not that mysterious, but it is a lot of hard, tenacious work.

Elissa will do well in any pursuit. Highly energized and sincere in presentation she's knowledgeable, confident and is not intimidated by any task before her. She advised us, "Don't worry about it. Not everybody is going to like you."

I am just beginning to read her book. It opens with a grabbing sentence. I came upon my son’s body by the river. She does well to explain in the afterword her research and some of the decisions she made in order to write the details of a story most of us think we know.

Since the writers meeting was not the norm, I could not asset the strength of the group, but I made notes of those who spoke, what they said and what they thought was important. I’ll soon have to asset the value of trucking ten miles uphill.