Kate Oliverさんのインスタグラム写真 - (Kate OliverInstagram)「Over the summer, my therapist told me that I am someone who takes my time. I laughed a little, thinking about how Ellen and I used to do entire Airstream renovations in less than six months—or how I went from writing a book proposal to getting a book deal in less than a year. But she wasn’t talking about my ambition or accomplishments. I knew I wanted to write a memoir of my life on the road pretty much as soon as we got out there. I didn’t know much about memoir then, had read only a handful, but knew I had a story I wanted to tell. A story I thought might help other women and queers and anyone who needed more in their lives. Yet it would take seven years before I began writing a draft in earnest—I took notes, wrote scenes here and there, kept a journal with sporadic entries. Mostly, I lived my life. Observed. Felt. Waited. And as I waited, more life unfolded. The story became something bigger, wilder, darker—a story I could have never fathomed. Sometimes I feel behind, but rarely anymore—I watch others write books and complete projects and everyone seems to be moving faster, accomplishing more, able to go at a pace that never suited me but I tried to keep up anyway—a pace that ultimately broke me. In my first draft, my book begins right here on this river—on the very night this picture of me was taken, more than seven years ago. Now I know. I was writing even then—even without putting a single word on the page. I was writing these last several months, even though my manuscript was tucked away, waiting for me to return and craft a first draft into a story to share with the world. My therapist was right. When I am listening to myself, and not what the world demands, I take my time. I turn things over and over until I understand. I get low and sit with my body and breath. I cannot rush the writing of a life.」1月29日 23時04分