Traveling anxiety as an author and dealing with the unexpected

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I recently traveled from Massachusetts to Texas to attend the Teen Bookfest by the Bay in Corpus Christi as an author since I was on winter break from teaching.

I’m not much of a traveler. I prefer my happy place—home. It’s the place I feel the most comfortable after years of feeling shame about how I grew up.

Plus, I get really anxious flying.

The book event had paid for my food, accommodations, and flights, but unfortunately that meant I was flying across the country alone without my husband since we couldn’t afford for him to come. And if you read my past blog posts, the last time I had to travel alone in the fall was during my daughter’s medical crisis in California—so the whole thing was dredging up emotions I wasn’t ready to feel yet.

But that’s how emotions work. They don’t come when it’s convenient.

So here I was in Boston Logan airport, alone, having feelings. *Sigh* I couldn’t back out of the contract I had signed, but I really was having a hard time getting on the plane, knowing I was flying out on the Friday all day, and then flying home on the Sunday all day, only to teach high school on the Monday.

At some point, I gave myself a pep talk. It would be over soon, and I was letting my feelings overpower my reasoning. I could absolutely do this. People do it all the time.

So I did, blasting music in headphones and then watching THE FLASH during the two flights to get to Corpus Christi. Then I relaxed in the hotel room with Bear until the author dinner that evening.

This is Bear. He traveled in my suitcase and sat on the beautiful hotel room bed as company. Seriously, look at that face. How could I not feel supported by my family when looking into those innocent brown eyes?

I bought Bear a few months ago when empty nesting was feeling particularly lonely, when I noticed the house no longer had any “kid-friendly” items scattered about, no kids around to hug anymore. I haven’t had a stuffed animal since I was twelve and had to grow up far too quickly, so Bear also reminds me to embrace the softness and comfort of life—sometimes hard for an chronic overachiever.

On Friday night, they held a gorgeous dinner for the authors to meet with all the teacher and librarian volunteers who put together the lovely event.

The next morning, I woke up early to get ready for the book festival. My badge for the event had my packed schedule listed on it, which was such a great way to stay organized. I was really looking forward to a day of talking about books and writing with readers, and the volunteers had such great hospitality, I felt like I was in good hands.

I was feeling pretty damn cool and confident, and I took this outfit pic for social media. It really felt like I was giving myself permission to SHINE, my word of the year.

For breakfast, the hotel had delicious waffles shaped like Texas, and before I left, I filled my travel mug with coffee so I’d have enough energy to meet the day.

I started walking over to the event a little early, only two blocks away. It was a gorgeous 70 degree day, and after a gray Massachusetts winter, it was a much needed change.

I looked up at the bright blue sky, and the sparkling ocean, and the swaying palm trees, and…

…my foot missed the curb.

:(

My left ankle wobbled and twisted, and I went DOWN, hard.

I face planted and belly flopped, and nothing about it was remotely graceful. My right knee hit the cement first, then my coffee lid went flying and splashed all down the left side of my face and into my hair and ear.

I lay on the ground like a beached starfish, unsure if I had broken anything other than my pride. Only one author witnessed this moment, and his kind face loomed over me, concerned. In all seriousness, he asked, “Do you need help getting up?”

He gave me a hand, and I couldn’t help but make light of the situation. I cracked jokes that coffee would be my perfume of the day, and that the universe must want me to stay grounded.

Hmmm…interesting. I have a lot going on behind-the-scenes that I can’t discuss right now (all very positive), but sometimes I think the universe has a sense of humor.

Well, universe. Thanks for the hard reminder.

So I limped to the event and pretended I was fine and not bleeding through my ripped jeans (oh, the irony!) Most of the event I sat either on panels or when signing books, so only a few people noticed when I tried to walk. I wasn’t going to skip the fun after traveling all the way there, and I wasn’t going to bother the amazing volunteers with my clumsiness.

Check out the awesome sign they had outside my panel!

I ended up with a badly sprained ankle and a swollen knee.

It was humbling to be hurt in another state when traveling alone—it made me miss my husband even more since I knew he would’ve instantly taken care of me.

I ended up skipping the final dinner and eating pizza in my hotel room while elevating and icing my ankle and knee. I did learn that you can order an ankle brace from Walgreens for instant delivery through Instacart, and wheeled luggage can be a useful crutch at the airport.

I’m happy to report that I’m back home in Massachusetts, and the swelling has finally gone down after two weeks. I’m grateful that nothing was broken, and that I met some lovely readers across the country.

I’d love to write something more insightful, but honestly the only thing I kept thinking about was the coming spring in my garden and worrying that I wouldn’t physically be able to enjoy it after waiting all winter. Funny how the universe keeps us grateful for what we have by giving us glimpses into the alternative.

Perhaps that’s why I write dystopian novels…