In the attempt to finally start my book, I made the bold decision to move from NYC to Paris, a dream always but now a reality. Shortly after my college graduation this past spring, I packed a few luggage's and made my way to the root of everything.
A year and a half ago I had the most amazing journey around Europe on a backpacking trip, leaving behind confusion, heartache and writers block; I began a trip that ironically would end in Paris. In this exact time I would be sitting in a cafe, writing in my journal and reading the book that would spark my idea.
It was picturesque if you could imagine, small coffee shop in the center of the Latin Quarter, crisp January air and my pen moving at a speed I hadn't seen in so long. I would kiss goodbye my blocked mind and say hello to the idea I had been waiting all along for, this trip. It was in front of me all along, my experiences in Dachau, my romances in Dublin and Barcelona, and a grudging but sweet best friend along the way.
Now college is over and I sit here in a similar but different picturesque setting in Nanterre at a cafe, writing my book...with nothing but the days ahead of me.
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