Writing a Shitty First Draft.

Before arriving in Kenya, I had a few day layover in Zurich to visit my friends Talley and Zach. We ate bratwurst, walked around the quaint European city, and railroaded to the Alps.  Highlight of the trip was the mechanical luge down the mountain, where I giggled and screamed and got whiplash as I flung around each bend before slamming on the brakes in fear.  Who needs to hike down a mountain when you can luge?

Other highlight of the trip was Tal's cooking.  For those of you who love delicious food, beautiful photography, and design, check out Tal's blog housetohaus.blogspot.com.  Tal's design skills also helped me redesign my totally amateur and technologically stunted blog into a website that better encompasses Kerry-ness.  Thanks Tal!

To wake up in the land of the Sound of Music and fall asleep in hot and tropical Mombasa is a strange feeling. Plane travel, you amaze me. After arriving in Kenya on Sunday night and reuniting with my friends Jared and Ilea, I settled into their apartment overlooking the Indian Ocean.  I have no phone, the internet is spotty, and the sound of waves, birds, and tree hopping monkeys creates a nice writing ambiance.  Add a nice strong cup of African coffee (with a spoonful of powdered hazelnut creamer--total coffee taboo I know, but who I am kidding, it just makes the coffee taste so good!) and I'm ready to write.

So . .  . writing.  . . 

I've got over a hundred pages of borderline incomprehensible notes and ideas.  I also have some beautiful stories from women who have shared their thoughts on womanhood and power.  Combining the two is going to be an interesting task.  But for now, I'm just focused on writing a shitty first draft. That seems to be a great first goal.

As I write, I can't help but think that this book-writing journey is similar to the mechanical luge I rode down last weekend.  If I want to move forward with writing, I need to take my hands off the brake and just let go and enjoy the ride (despite the fear and whiplash).   So back to my shitty, but ever growing, draft.