James and I moved to Nashville.
I wish I could tell you with more fanfare, but that's the long short of it. About a month ago, we packed up our lives and the dog and we moved from Williamsburg, Brooklyn to Franklin, Tennessee (just south of Music City). We haven't looked back.
I wish I could tell you that we miss it, but aside from the wonderful friends we left in NYC, we're not homesick for much. We both feel peace and creativity coming back to us as people-- something we didn't realize we had been sorely missing in our lives.
I've started writing again. James is finally working on the podcast he's been dreaming about for years. The move has, by and large, been good for us. As people. As professionals. As spouses.
Even Biscuit is happier here.
And that's that.
I'm sure one night I'll have a glass of wine too many and get weepy about leaving the city I loved so intensely for so long, but not today. Today, I'm outlining three ideas for new novels and marveling at how much more free time I have.
I feel like myself again, and it's wonderful.