A Writer in San Francisco: A New City, A New Life

It’s been a wild month. After a whirlwind of trips and apartment searching, I’ve moved to San Francisco. Now I’ll be a writer in San Francisco! At first, my boyfriend and I were planning on moving in 2022, but since rent prices were so low, we decided to move, and I’m so happy we did.

At the end of May, we took a week-long vacation to SF and visited all the tourist attractions. It was relaxing and indulging in our freedom after spending over a year inside during the Pandemic. We needed the break, and the change of scenery was an incredible relief. And as a writer, San Francisco is such an inspiring place full of the beautiful, ugly, and complicated.

golden gate bridge san francisco california
Photo by Tae Fuller on Pexels.com

When we went back to Salt Lake City, we were distraught, missing SF immediately. Thankfully, my boyfriend had been applying to jobs for a few weeks to see if he could snatch something up). And then, a few days after we got back into town, he got a job! We were stoked. I bought our plane tickets, and we flew back to search for an apartment. We were back in SF precisely a week since we left. During all this craziness, I wanted to flex being a new transplant, a writer, in San Francisco, but there was no time!

I’m also a Poet ? feel free to read one of my poems about San Francisco!

We moved into our new studio apartment a few days after that, and now we’re settling into our home. My boyfriend started his new job, and I can work wherever with my full-time remote job. Everything’s just effortlessly slipped into place, and I feel like the city has gently swallowed us up. I can’t believe that I’m a writer in San Francisco!

Compared to Salt Lake City, SF has more to offer us; it’s a better match for our lifestyles, interests, and the weather that we love (cool and overcast). Plus, for the first time, I’m finally living close to the ocean, something I’ve always dreamed about.

sky view of city during sun set
Photo by picjumbo.com on Pexels.com

Are you a writer too? Are you looking for a beta or alpha reader to review your work? Learn about my services HERE.

After Moving I’m Back to Writing

It’s been over a month since I last published a blog post. Between moving and wrapping up my Internship, I haven’t had time to write and read my books. I’m aching to get back into the groove. And I’ve decided to break the ice with this introductory post to starting our lives in a new city. I can’t think of a better way as a writer in San Francisco to talk about our move than to blog about it!

What am I planning? Putting together my Pandemic Poetry collection that I will publish in a limited edition digital and print Zine. I’ll be mailing these to everyone who bought a personalized poem last year while I was unemployed. After this, I will open up the Zine for free downloads to the public. This is a lot of work, but I’m enjoying the process of putting it all together.

Read my published eBook zine “A Collection of Pandemic Poems” FREE to download and share!

At the same time, I’m editing my novel and selecting poems for a reading at the Utah Arts Festival. I’m excited to share my work, see people in the flesh, and mingle with other poets.

three vehicles parked beside concrete building
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

San Francisco Re-opening After the Pandemic: A Writer’s Observation

We moved to SF right as its opening up. The city is busier than when we visited at the end of May, and the traffic is insane. People wear masks out of habit or preference, and some places still require masks and social distancing.

It’s comforting to be in a safer city since the Pandemic was taken seriously here; SF is one of the very few places in the U.S. to have achieved herd immunity. I feel safer and more relaxed here compared to Salt Lake City. Being fully vaccinated since early May, we can take advantage of SF and go without masks.

It’s weird to switch from being home all the time to going out and being around so many people. I missed going out; I missed meeting people in person and being out there instead of experiencing the world through the safety of screens.

There is so much change sometimes I feel like my head is spinning. But these are all welcome changes, and I’m ecstatic to explore my new home city, write, and meet other writers.


Liked this post? Feel free to read I Love Living in San Francisco: A Writer’s Reflection or What’s Happening? Reflecting on Self and Living in San Francisco Want to connect? Leave a comment below or ? me at alinahappyhansenwriter@gmail.com ?

Cowboy in the Desert: Flash Fiction Series #8

Cowboy in the Desert

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

He looks to the sky, the sun burns. The blue lake glitters in the distance. The sound of coyotes somewhere nearby. The gun is heavy on his hip, and his boots are full of sand. He takes a step then another. His chapped lips, cracked and bleeding. Hands limp and lifeless hanging in defeat. His horse dead, miles back, its black eyes shine in his mind as he shot it lying on its side dying of thirst. If he could just make it to the blue lake glittering in the distance.


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope you will return in the future!

-Alina

Hospital Stay: Flash Fiction Series #7

Hospital Stay

by

Alina Happy Hansen

He sits propped up on some pillows. The sick smell of bleach and antiseptic is inescapable. His neighbor groans in pain behind the curtain partition. The TV flickers every other minute, the signal weak. A voice calls to him from outside the opened window. His heart beats furiously. The voice of his dead mother reaches him, getting louder as he reaches for the call button. “Why did you say you wanted me to burn in hell?”


 

If you are reading this Thank You for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope you will return in the future!

-Alina

Isolation: Flash Fiction Series #6

Isolation

by

Alina Happy Hansen

 

Alone and unloved, she sits in a room that is pale and plain just like her. The window lets the sun in, trickling across the floor, across the wall until it vanishes each night from sight. There are movements and sounds coming from the rest of the house, voices seep through the walls. The other women’s howls slice through the silence. Rooms become cages to keep in the hysteria and pain. The room is her tomb where she waits for her family, sitting there in a chair, staring out the window into the sun.


 

Inspired by The Yellow Wallpaper , horrible stories of Asylums and women being treated for ‘Hysteria‘. 

 

 

If you are reading this thank you for taking time out of your day to read my writing!

I hope that you will return in the future!

-Alina