Look where I'm at! At Margaret Mitchell's house where she wrote over 90% of Gone with the Wind. The books that for years has been outsold in America only by another book—The Bible. I just read her nice before coming to Atlanta, and being in her house and knowing she wrote it without plotting, in one breath, all 1,000+ pages, and listening to the crazy story of the movie's production and the story itself, why it was so popular and still is, made me think...and realize perhaps my writerly voice in America. The voice I tires to find, where I belong.
I'm the voice of the immigrants. My stories are immigrants' stories.
This gave me a strange serenity, like I have finally truly found my place. It was an amazing feeling. Still is.