Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Road Not Taken - Robert Frost (1915)
This week in the publishing world brought the stories of 3 authors: Amanda Hocking, Barry Eisler and Connie Brockway. All are taking different paths and I wish all of them well. But looking at them raises interesting questions and yes, it did remind me oh-so-much of the poem by Robert Frost. Mr. Frost's poem is one of my all-time-faves, and any time I'm in a position of "choosing" - first I consider myself lucky - and then, I reflect on Mr. Frost's words. I wonder if these words went through Amanda's, Barry's and Connie's minds over the past few weeks?