Yesterday was a public holiday and a perfect opportunity to
sleep in. However, we had friends visiting from the UK who had to catch an
early flight. So we stirred out from our comfy beds around 5.30am, and packed
them in the car for our trip to the airport. We live in the northern suburbs of
Melbourne, and though the trip usually takes 45 minutes in normal traffic, we
guessed the traffic would be light, while everyone else took their well-earned
sleep-in. In fact, the roads were so clear, we got to the airport in just over
25 minutes. That was good going.
That was yesterday. Today, my husband and I made up for our
lost public holiday, and have set off for our annual holiday break. We also had
to go to the airport, but our flight was a little later, and we set out in peak
peak traffic (the extra peak to indicate it was a really bad idea to set out at
this time). All school mum’s were on the road, all office workers, and
apparently that time of day is the best time for road workers to throw up speed
reduction signs, and cut lanes so that oncoming traffic must wait about five
minutes while the other side goes through at snail’s pace.
As we set out, we realised this was the worst time to take this
trip. Our driver elected to skip the main arterial road that would have taken
us to the freeway. We agreed, given the reputation for this road—often referred
to as the carpark during peak times. We have used the back route many times
before, knowing there is only one traffic light before coming to the freeway,
and crossing through a lot of farm land. However, during the last year, the
farmer who owned this farm land has bought a private jet, a private yacht and a
private island. He’s sold it all off to developers, and the developers are hard
at it, ripping everything up, with lots of heavy equipment, and those blessed
traffic control people, in their hi-viz vests, holding up stop signs
everywhere. The farmer and the developer are getting on with the job, but the
local council didn’t receive the memo. The population explosion in these areas
has meant a massive increase in traffic, and we are still travelling on one
lane roads, with road-works every time you manage to get a speed up.
As we
travelled along, our angst increasing by the minute as we got to sit and ponder
the landscape while not moving, we kept discussing alternate routes. The thing
is, everyone in Melbourne has been discussing alternate routes, and those
routes are now jammed with slow-moving traffic.
We finally got to the freeway and—Wheeee—we got a speed up
to 100kmph. And then it started to slow and stop. What!!!! Angst increases
another couple of notches. You know those airlines are not the most sympathetic
to folks who arrive forty-five seconds after they have shut the gate.
So we discussed yet another route, from an exit coming up.
As we approached the exit, we saw that everyone had the same idea, and the
traffic queue was ridiculous. We elected to continue on the freeway at a pace
that rivalled the tortoise. Eventually we passed a bingle (a little road
accident). Those folks looked more angsty than even we felt, with the front end
and fender of their vehicles pushed into a mangled shape. I had half a thought
of stopping to offer help, but given our pending departure time, I soon
banished the thought, and trusted that emergency services would find their way
through eventually.
So during this 60 minute trip to the airport, I began to
think about this blog. I thought about the many options we had, and the
discussions that went on about which route to take, and the frustration to find
that each option seemed to yield another difficulty. And while you might find
this story amusing (or not) I have a point.
As writers we hope to reach a destination like an airport.
After all the work we put into our creative projects we hope to drop them off
at a place where they will be able to fly—where the work will go to other
places and bring hope, encouragement, inspiration and entertainment to readers
and viewers. Sometimes we set out at a really good time, like when I set out
twenty years ago, and the roads were clear, and the travelling easy. My work
got to the destination – the Australian Christian Book market – and it flew.
But in recent times, with all the changes in the publishing industry, the roads
are full of obstacles, challenges and discouragements. I sometimes sit in my
slow-moving vehicle and wonder: is there a better route? Should I write
screenplay? Should I write contemporary instead of historical fiction? Should I
write for the mainstream instead of the Christian market? Should I give up and
go home? I’ll be honest with you: these are questions I consider all the time.
I’m trying to find my way to the freeway, and in turn, to the airport, where my
creative work can connect with a vehicle that can make it fly, but which road
to choose. And has everyone else already sussed this route out, and it is now
clogged and difficult to get through?
Is this how you feel sometimes? I imagine I am not the only
one who has felt frustrated, and has considered the above questions, especially
the giving up option. If it wasn’t that I enjoyed writing so much, I would have
stopped by now.
I do have these questions before the Lord in prayer. I have
my ear inclined in his direction, hoping to recognise a clear sign, knowing the
travelling will be light. I haven’t had any ‘writing on the wall’ moments just yet,
so I will continue to write and continue to wait and listen. I’m still having
fun in the writing process, if nothing else. I do hope to share my new work
with readers one day, and I hope that your creative project will make its way
to the airport and begin to fly too.
Meredith Resce is the current president of Omega Writers Australasia.
She has published nineteen titles in the last twenty years, the
most recent release is the novella ‘Falling for Maddie Grace’.
Images: Prepare to stop sign, Australia by Michael Leslie
via Shutterstock
Airplane by Graph via Shutterstock
