Leaving on a Jet Plane

​So I’m off to New York tomorrow for, well, for the International Emmys. Two months now I’ve known this was coming and I still feel like it hasn’t quite hit me yet. I’m finding myself wandering the house aimlessly before remembering I’m meant to be packing before remembering that I have an entire novel I have to finish editing then resolving to do that stuff but proceeding to continue wondering and listening to music and occasionally getting giddy about what is to come, then repeat.
     I don’t know that I have anything interesting to say about how this feels. You can probably guess the majority of it, comprised of phrases like ‘amazing opportunity’, ‘immensely grateful’ and ‘mind blowing’. I mean really, in what world does this happen? Some self-published Australian writer with only a handful of low budget plays to his name wins a screenwriting award and gets whisked off to New York to meet and mingle with all sorts of important people before watching his script be read by Broadway Actors in front of a live audience. How is any of this real? But so far no-one has called to tell me it was all a massive mistake and so, as far as I know, I’ll be boarding a plane tomorrow morning and heading off to all kinds of crazy adventures.
     Honestly, I’m terrified, but it’s a good fear. It’s the fear that comes with knowing you’ve just gotten something you always wanted and now having no clue of what to do with that. Am I going to make a fool of myself in America? How will I find my way around? Will I remember how to speak English when I meet famous people? Will my plane crash halfway there? I have no idea. But terror is outweighed by thrill and right now I’m taking these last moments to breathe, relax and try to get myself ready for whatever is about to come at me.
     Maybe the strangest thing is that New York really only feels like the beginning of something. When I come home I’ll dive straight into filming on my web series Mel MacDuff, final editing on my first properly published novel Boone Shepard and production on my new play The Lucas Conundrum. And none of this is allowing for the opportunities that may arise in the next few days. It feels like a wave is starting to crest and right now the only thing I can do is hold on and hope that I don’t lose any momentum. Which, by the way, is a pretty magnificent feeling to have.