The Tall Tree Way

​I keep seeing blue and white VW buses. Over the summer I'd been stuck enough to ask the universe for a little help on which way to go.

I'm not religious, and for a long time I wouldn't have considered myself spiritual, either. I'm still not really sure how to answer that... but from what I can tell, the people who believe in something definitely seem happier than those who don't.

At least, I think they do?

So, sitting in my favorite coffee shop, clutching a mug and clenching my jaw, I'd asked the universe to show me a sign: a green VW bus if I should continue to pursue writing, and an anchor if I should set it aside to rejoin the corporate world. Quickly, I'd crossed out "green" and replaced it with "orange." Orange just felt more optimistic or something. A day later, I saw a half white and half green VW bus. And the next day, a half white and half orange VW bus showed up.

I started seeing them everywhere. But then half blue and half white ones started appearing. Like, all the time. It's still happening, months later. Recently, in that same coffee shop, I wrote about wanting to get a typewriter. I didn't craft some hook or narrative structure, it just spilled out as stream-of-conscious thought. Not long after, I found one—a 1947 Royal KMM. Then, on my way to that coffee shop today, I saw yet another blue and white VW bus. This time, it was parked right in front of my neighbor's house. So now I can't shake the idea of writing a novel.

I'm picturing a hometown story that offers perspective instead of expectation. I see opportunity to depict unconventional outlooks where most slap on a stereotype or lean into some unnecessary trope. In my head, the working title is Tall Tree Way, like the street I grew up on in that north-shore corner of Massachusetts. Home of the Royals—where the colors are blue and white.