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Last night was StudioSTL's author party, an event to celebrate all the wonderful projects our writers have worked on this year. For the first hour, guests crowded into the Centene Center to eat and mingle. Sales of the literary magazine were brisk, and it was fun to see the published writers receive their contributor copies and sign autographs.


At 7:00, everyone crowded into the ballroom for a brief program of speakers, readings, and videos. Looking out over the standing-room only crowd, I had tears in my eyes to see so many different people from St. Louis coming together to celebrate the power of stories.


Later, while most of the guests were watching videos from the Wellston Storymapping Project, I took a break from staffing the magazine table to walk out on the 4th-floor balcony. The rain had stopped and the air was damp. Low gray clouds gathered over the river. I walked over to the corner where I could look between two buildings and see a little piece of the Arch.


As I looked over the city, I thought of the projects I've done with StudioSTL and all the amazing people I've met, many of whom were there that night. I thought of starting graduate school again in the fall and wondered where my studies would take me. I thought of my two children sleeping back in Webster Groves. And I realized: I'm home. It's taken almost five years of living in St. Louis, but I belong here now.


When I got home, I parked the car in the driveway and took a moment to put a ball up on the porch so it wouldn't blow away. In the darkness, the air smelled like honeysuckle, and I smiled to think of Tom's garden growing in the back yard. After five years, our family is firmly rooted here, and flourishing.