Insecure Writers Support Group + Summer: Fact or Fiction, Pt 2

My tiny bit of encouragement for the month.

Writing is an Adventure.

It's steep and deep like a black diamond powder run on skis or a snowboard.

It's full of twists, turns, and loops like the worlds scariest roller coaster.

It's like cliff diving (or watching your youngest daughter jump from a 30 foot cliff).

It's like swimming with 14 foot Manta Rays in Hawaiian waters after the sun sets.

It's like walking along the edge of the Grand Canyon on the rim trail, with condors below you.


Even if your heart is pounding, you're gasping for breath, you feel dizzy, and your palms are covered in nervous sweat - it's worth it.

Take the leap onto the blank page.

Keep Writing.

Keep your Adventurous Dreams Alive!

And speaking of Adventures, it's time for:

Summer: Fact or Fiction, Part 2

Trembling with anticipation and fear, I climbed the rocky trail up to the top of the cliffs with my family. My husband, daughters, nephew, niece, and sister-in-law had jumped from a twenty foot cliff the day before. I wasn't sure if I could do it. I'm terrified of heights, and open water has some fear factor for me even after some adventures snorkeling with Manta Rays in Hawaii about 16 months ago.

My legs felt like jelly, and I tripped on a loose stone on the path. I regained my balance, but my heart started pounding in my chest, and I felt that familiar sensation of vertigo start to take hold. Dizzyness, with an almost compelling feeling of wanting to throw  myself off any high place . . . don't ask me why vertigo makes me want to jump while at the same time fearing it. My breath started coming in shaky gasps.

I sat down on a large rock, and watched the others approach the edge of the cliff.

"This one's only ten feet, Aunt Ty, you could jump that," my niece said.

"Sure, only ten feet," I replied. I swallowed  nervously.

They were milling around at the edge, when another family came up the trail, already wet from a previous jump. They were laughing and excited. The father of the family introduced himself as the Pastor of a church, and encouraged us all to just have faith, and jump. He smiled when he said it, then took a few steps and leaped out into the water. His two boys followed him, and then his wife.

I stood up from the rock. I walked slowly over the edge. I felt light-headed, but ready. The rest of my family watched me, parted a little to make a path, and without thinking, I took three more steps and sprang off the edge. I flailed my arms in the air and screamed, and then I hit the water, my stomach and arms taking a burning hit as I entered. The cold water surrounded me, and I started flailing again, not wanting to go down any further. Finally I reached the surface, and felt elation. I had conquered my fears.


So did I jump: Fact or Fiction?

Or did I ride the Silver Bullet from Monday's post?

What do you think?