This way to adventure!

Hi there!

I’m Emily. I’m a writer living an unexpected expat life fueled by coffee and adventure. Home is where my art is.

(Currently: Brussels)

Disclaimer*

Disclaimer*

Jenn tells us that disclaimers aren’t needed here. There is safety under the glow of the twinkle lights strung across the great room of the retreat house. And even though it’s only been 24 hours since we — a group of writers and artists of all walks and stages — have come together here, I believe her. Of course we’ve all explicitly agreed to a safe space but there’s something deeper than that. It goes without saying that we are all pilgrims. And whether we pray to the same God, or other god(s), or none at all, it is clear that the work we are doing here is sacred.

The circle opens and stories and poems and lyrics and wordless melodies are offered out and up. Some polished, smoothed by telling and re-telling. Some more rough and perhaps even a bit unfinished. Some being brought into the light and air for the very first time.

I listen and wait for the hole that belongs to my story. It’s still held together by basting stitches and my voice is half gone but I push through to read. I learned earlier in the afternoon from a small group of women that I have already grown to love that what I thought was a 1,500 word essay is maybe really meant to be a chapter in a yet-to-be-born book and I am terrified and thrilled by this all at the same time. The pages in my hands are unfinished, a first draft, rough, and I’m not entirely sure where they are going.

I offer what I have out to the open hearts around me and up to the twinkle lights above. And as I read the words aloud for the second time, I begin to see where the edges might smooth. There is still so, so much work to do. But there are no disclaimers needed here.


{Real life is rarely as safe as time spent under the glow of twinkle lights. I disclaim the hell out of everything.}

* This is just something I’m working on. I’m not really sure where it’s going but think maybe there’s something there. Maybe?

* This is a first draft. It’s still a work in progress.

* Names and details have been changed to protect the innocent. The guilty should have seen it coming.

* Your story is yours to tell and mine is mine, but some stories can’t help but overlap.

* Memories don’t always behave the way we think they should.

* I am, at times, an unreliable narrator.


Photo: Casey Sjogren, Write Doe Bay

Pilgrimage.

Pilgrimage.

Steel & magnolias.

Steel & magnolias.