Here’s another in my series of journal entries from my early days as a writer. In this entry on the eve of my departure to points unknown, I close the loop on “The turning point, 1978” and try to pump myself up:

After talking with Mom I think I’ve finally resolved many of my doubts about going away. She understands, and my plans are flexible.

… Tonight we disassembled the Christmas tree — first time I’ve done so in years — with warmth, dignity, and love, but a little sadness. That’s good. I will admit I’ll miss home and Mom, very much.

Tonight’s viewing included Cavett, A Wodehouse Playhouse production of “The Nodder,” and the conclusion of Mourning Becomes Electra. Damn! If only I could ever hope to write as powerfully as an O’Neill, as wittily as Wodehouse, or as skillfully as either! I’ll give it a go, but doubts loom large …

Howard W. Fielding, “Journal,” 3 January 1979