One curiosity,
one sentence,
at a time.

I didn’t intend to go to Bottomless Lakes. I went to this area, because I’d been trying to go to Carlsbad Caverns. For years.

My grandmother had gone with my dad and uncle when they were quite small. In 2011, when I drove through that area last, I didn’t have time to stop. Plus, since the book I’m revising is set, mainly in a cave, I’ve been visiting as many caves as possible in the past few years.

It seemed like the timing was perfect.

The timing was not perfect.

Due to spring break and curious pandemic timing, I showed up and discovered that tickets to the cave were sold out for the next few days, well beyond the end of my Airbnb stay. So, I wondered around above ground, pondering the desert and my choices.

And thus I stumbled upon Bottomless Lakes. Not literally. I was on Google Maps, trying to figure out where the post office was, and I spotted the name—“Bottomless Lakes State Park”—and thought, “How cool!” (I always like names that sound like they belong in books.)

With some research, I discovered that the lakes weren’t really bottomless. They’re shaped much like Carlsbad Caverns, but the caves collapsed and filled with water.

I thought, “Wow, how geographically interesting!” Then I went to see it and marveled at its beauty.

I remember thinking: in the middle of a desert, I just discovered the closest thing to a beach that I could find.

Sometimes, you think you’re headed one place, but you find that path closed to you.

Sometimes, you have no idea where you are or where you’re headed, but then your curiosity gives you a glimmer to follow.

This is how stories are written.

This is how lives are lived.

Or at least, that’s how I’m living and writing mine.—I am collecting my stories one curiosity—or one sentence—at a time.

Take care, sweet ones. 

Originally posted 6/3/21.