Writing What You Wish: Still Rebuilding 19 Years After Katrina

“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. But to sacrifice a hair of the head of your vision, a shade of its colour, in deference to some Headmaster with a silver pot in his hand or to some professor with a measuring-rod up his sleeve, is the most abject treachery.”

Virigina Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

Today — August 29th — is a notable day for New Orleanians like me. On this day nineteen years ago, I woke up at my girlfriend’s apartment in Decatur, Georgia, after monitoring weather news reports late into the previous evening. Hurricane Katrina impacted New Orleans, and water was pouring into the city; the severity of damage wasn’t yet known, but would reveal itself over the next few days, and change my life a great deal.

It’s hard to state just how different life could have turned out if the hurricane had missed the city just a little. August 29th was a true fork in the road that turned life upside down, and like a river carving its own way through territory, Hurricane Katrina’s impact carved its way through me.

Now, nineteen years have flown by, each one heavy with change and growth. An enormous amount happened. An entire life was built, and achievements piled up like bricks.

I look forward and marvel at what other wonders can unveil themselves over the next nineteen years, and what else could be built and accomplished.

Then again, I shiver at how much those nineteen years took and how lucky I’ve been.

Has my life or career already seen its high water mark?


This Virginia Woolf quote resurfaces to me this morning, causing me to pick up this notepad and write “what I wish.” A few little contemplations to add on the pile, as another sheet on the calendar turns, and I bear through more writers block.

The ink used to flow so liberally.

My head was full of vision and shades.

I’d wake up every morning before the sun, hurry to my desk, and write anything I wanted for hours. I had a vision, built an audience, and turned the flywheel year after year, building and building and building up from Katrina’s groundzero.

And it was wonderful. As Virginia Woolf explains, it was all that mattered.

The hours turned into days and years and then, out of nowhere, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, came a Headmaster with a silver pot in his hand.

Nineteen years ago, Hurricane Katrina upturned my life and claimed every possession, but injected sparks of vision and ambition.

Years later, with a beautiful life built and great accomplishments recorded, this Headmaster showered me with possessions, but claimed my vision and ambition.

And left me here alone to write on a rainy day.

Anything I wish.