Melissa Rose Boisclair

So much has happened I don't know where to start. On the surface nothing's changed. It like my soul is mimicking Chinese bamboo.  Once the seed has been planted, you see nothing for five years but little shoots. That's because all the growth takes place underground. Deep below the earth, a labyrinth of a root system is reaching upward and outward. Then, at the end of the fifth year, it shoots up to a height of eighty-two feet! For years and years nothing's been changing on the surface of my life. I work the same two jobs day after day, wear the same smile, speak the same words, but all the while the seas within me were turbulent and dangerous. I, on a raft held together with frayed rope.  Chinese bamboo. All the work took place deep underground, all these roots reaching outward and upward, waiting for the day they would breech the cracks in the dirt and dare to stretch for the great blue sky. After seven some odd years of living in a place that was slowly killing

It's been a while.  I've done so much, changed so much, decided so much in such a short time it astounds me. I won't go into it all. (does this make me a lazy author?) But most of the turmoil I've felt for the past year and a half is beginning to ebb, and quiet. I still have restless nights, but it's more from the heat, and intense creative waves then anything. I still get down on myself, but the lows are much higher then they used to be. (Think silently screaming on the floor.)  I've sent my query letter out to my first agent, along with a sample chapter. I've decided I'm moving to MA. and, little by little, I'm starting to understand exactly what it is I want out of this life. I want a group of intelligent, open minded friends that compliment my personality, and who I don't need to filter myself around. I want a spiritual teacher. I want to travel all over the world, not like a tourist, but an explorer with a few dusty possessions and a