On the shore
You build a boat, you push it out to sea. Champagne is smacked against the bow. Your friends and family stand on the dock beside you and cheer. Hugs, laughter, tears. And then the boat is out on the water and you stop breathing for a moment while you watch it begin to sail, making sure it all holds fast. And it does. The boat is seaworthy. More champagne.
With every second that passes, the boat gets further and further from you. It becomes smaller and smaller out there on the waves. You begin to realise that you are not on the boat. You are on the dock. You knew this to begin with; you built the boat for other passengers and not for yourself to sail. But at some point, nailing the boards together, you may have forgotten this. Long, lonely hours in the boatshed: maybe the boat will take me with it.
But it won’t, of course! You built the boat for those who choose to sail it. So you push it out to sea. You stand on the shore and watch it become a speck in the distance. And doesn’t it look nice out there on the water?
FRIDA SLATTERY AS HERSELF is out now. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Ahoy matey! Can’t wait to board ⚓️
Congratulations on publishing your novel! I'll be headed to Books Upstairs shortly to pick up a copy for myself. Very much looking forward to reading it.