It's All Coming Together...
In 2008, my parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary. Instead of buying gifts for each other to mark the occasion, they decided they wanted to take a trip abroad. And, due to the fact that the four of us hadn’t taken a family vacation in six years, they opted to pay for me and my sister, Erin, to join them. They decided on a 10-day cruise through the Mediterranean. Not only did it turn out to be our best family vacation to date, it was also a journey that changed the course of my life and helped bring me to this moment. |
The cruise made seven port stops, allowing us to visit some of the best places the region has to offer: Naples, Italy, and the nearby island of Capri; Messina, Sicily, plus the mountain villages of Taormina and Castelmola; Kusadasi, Turkey, and the ancient ruins at Ephesus; the fortified Old Town of Dubrovnik, Croatia; the beautiful island city of Corfu, Greece; the tiny Greek village of Katakolo, which serves as a gateway to Olympia; and the iconic Greek island of Santorini in the middle of the Aegean Sea. There were also two at-sea days, which were spent swimming, sunbathing, taking in shows and participating in on-board activities. One of those afternoons was pleasantly spent at a wine-tasting event, where I was taught to develop my palate and learned to love many new types of wine, including my favourite to this day, Frescobaldi Rèmole.
Each day exploring a new location was filled with memorable moments, but it was the day spent in Oia and Fira on Santorini that left the greatest impact. That morning, as I split from my family for some time to wander the crooked stairways between the Oia cavehouses, constantly taking photos, I realized that the tiny village was quickly becoming my favourite place in the world. Nothing I had ever seen (or have seen since) could really compare with it, and I promised myself that day I would find some way to return there as soon as I could. |
Jumping ahead to New Year’s Day in 2012, I was trying to decide what my resolution for the year should be, and began recalling a goal I had set for myself when I was eight years old: to become a published author before I turn 30. Realizing that very few years remained before the expiry of such a time-sensitive goal, I promised myself to dedicate the year to writing a novel. I knew right away it would incorporate some of my greatest loves – music, travel, food, poetry, sex – and I realized that setting the story in Oia would give me the perfect excuse to return to Santorini. So, I booked a trip to the island and spent the next four months researching and storyboarding.
That May, I enjoyed 10 glorious days in Oia, staying at a traditional villa operated by a wonderful family. I passed each day by sipping local wine, listening to Greek music and writing for 6-8 hours out on their veranda, with the occasional excursion around the island to gather further research and inspiration. My evenings were filled with dinners at restaurants along the pedestrian street, watching the sensational sunset, and having drinks with locals. By the end of the trip, I had completed nearly three-quarters of the book’s first draft, all written by hand. |
Upon my return to Ottawa, I found it difficult to keep up my momentum. I had come home to dreary spring weather and was without my muse. After about a week, though, I decided to try to recreate my setting as best as I could, surrounding myself with the photos I’d taken, listening to Greek music and sipping wine in the afternoon. I hunkered down on weekends and, within the next month and a half, managed to complete the draft. Months of editing, re-writing, pitching and rejections followed.
Meanwhile, in February of this year, I completely uprooted my life. I quit my job in Ottawa, packed up all of my possessions, moved out of my apartment, said goodbye to my friends and family, and moved to South Korea to teach English to children. I was immediately and ridiculously out of my element. I’d never taught before, had never been very good with kids, and didn’t know a soul in the city of Jeonju. I was lonely, confronted by the constant feeling of being lost and illiterate, and facing fairly regular instances of culture shock and even racism. Thankfully, I quickly made friends with my co-teachers and other expats in town, but I never felt at home at that school. The only constant for me was my book. My puny social life in Jeonju meant I had a lot of free time to push forward with finding an agent and publisher. But I worried that being in South Korea would now complicate my search for a home for Sunsets in Oia back in North America. I even started pitching to agents in the United Kingdom, New Zealand, Australia and Greece, to no avail. Those long hours pushing the book forward were made worse by the limited ability to spend them sipping on a glass of Mediterranean wine, which had developed into a bit of a habit since being on Santorini. South Korea certainly isn’t known for its good selection of wine – this is the land of soju, after all – and the stock imported from my favourite wine-producing region was in short supply and typically overpriced. Things just weren’t looking up for me, and my spirit was bruised a bit more with each rejection message I received.
Then, clarity hit me: if the traditional publishing houses don’t see what I see in this story, then I shouldn’t limit myself to relying on them to make my dream of publication come true. Having always been a fiercely independent woman, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands, invest even more money in the project and go the self-publishing route. Settling on the all-inclusive package offered by FriesenPress, I said goodbye to a good chunk of dough and spent several more months fine-tuning the book, developing the layout, and planning marketing and promotions strategies with the help of the company’s dedicated team.
As that process rolled along, I decided I needed to take action to resolve some unhappiness that had developed with my work situation. Less than five months into my teaching contract in Jeonju, I made the bold decision to quit my job without something else already lined up. I endured two weeks of intense stress and panic, not knowing if I’d manage to secure another teaching gig in Korea or if I’d be forced to return to Canada, where I would have likely remained unemployed for months and been forced to live with my parents again for the first time since moving out at 18. However, in the third week, luck found me in the form of a job offer in the beautiful coastal city of Busan. So, I packed my bags once again and moved across the country on the bus. I’m now happily employed at a good school in a city I thoroughly enjoy.
This brings us to last night, when I held a party to celebrate the upcoming release of my book. I’d been planning the event for over a month, and with the help of my friend Joon, who hosted the party at his guesthouse, the night turned out to be a great success. I was surrounded by nearly 30 of my new friends, both expat and Korean, and felt grateful to have so much support from people I had only recently met. My spread of Mediterranean-style hors d'oeuvre quickly disappeared as did my offerings of beer, wine and soju, and everyone had kind words to say in response to my reading. It truly was a night to remember.
This brings us to last night, when I held a party to celebrate the upcoming release of my book. I’d been planning the event for over a month, and with the help of my friend Joon, who hosted the party at his guesthouse, the night turned out to be a great success. I was surrounded by nearly 30 of my new friends, both expat and Korean, and felt grateful to have so much support from people I had only recently met. My spread of Mediterranean-style hors d'oeuvre quickly disappeared as did my offerings of beer, wine and soju, and everyone had kind words to say in response to my reading. It truly was a night to remember.
After spending the night at Joon’s guesthouse, along with a few of the other party members, I headed home today feeling great – even in spite of sleep deprivation and a mild hangover. "If a party I’d been planning for a month can go over so well," I thought, "then surely a book I’ve spent the last 22 months perfecting will be equally successful." As I walked out of the subway station and through a basement level of the Lotte Department Store, I glanced over toward the wine boutique. I noticed a crate holding bottles that were priced on sale because they were the last of their kind in stock. And there, in the crate in front of me, were two bottles of my favourite wine, the Frescobaldi Rèmole. My mind immediately flashed back to the cruise trip and my hands instinctively reached out to claim both bottles. I was stunned: this specific wine wasn’t exactly easy to find back in Ontario. Only the largest LCBO locations would usually stock it. So, randomly stumbling upon what might just be the only two bottles of it in the entire city of Busan put a huge smile on my face. "I’m on a role this weekend," I thought. "You two are coming home with me, and I’m not sharing. And when I officially unleash my debut novel on the world next week, I will polish off one of you in celebration."
In the end, it’s all coming together…
In the end, it’s all coming together…