Wake Up and Write Writer's Retreat Workshop
The riverboat was there, tied up to the dock, though the desk clerk thought it only ran on weekends until July. When I went to the restaurant next door, I was the only customer, so I got a premium spot, right on the river.
It was the Rock River, and the hotel was just outside the town of Oregon, Illinois. After dinner, I took my iced tea out on the deck to one of the empty tables and listened to the water lapping against the riverboat. The Rock River is not the Mississippi. On the other hand, it’s no creek, either. The riverboat did not dwarf the river, in fact they looked as if they fit one another pretty well.
Some people love the mountains, some the forest, for me, it’s water. Put me next to an ocean, a river, heck, even a pond, and I can sit for hours. Though I did eventually go in that night, I was determined to bring my writing out there the next morning.
There was a great line in the Emilio Estevez film, The Way, when Estevez’ character says to his father (played by his real-life father, Martin Sheen), “You don’t choose a life, Dad, you live it.”