It's amazing where you can write when you put your mind to it. When you let your story in, there is no stopping you. I've found in the past few months that I can write on the back of a teaching schedule in a crowded lunchroom. Last night, I found that I can write at Mom's house on her computer long after everyone has gone to bed. I rock my iPod, open my manuscript and the story flows. I was only able to finish one chapter before it was time to head for bed (well past 1am) but I did it! This morning, the house is quiet for a few hours again so I'll be diving in. Mom always keeps my scented candles around for atmosphere, though last night I didn't want to burn them in her bedroom. She has a rather sick kitty who is trying to decide if it's time to say goodbye or rally for another year. No breathing problems, but I don't want to create any where there are none. Poor Patches has enough going on at the moment. She snuck out to eat next to me, walk around the house as best she could, then went back under the bed. All the while, I clicked away. Maybe the magic that flew off my fingertips onto the keyboard dropped little sparks that filtered their way under the bed to her, reviving her a bit. If only it were that easy, right? But I've wandered off the path again. I have discovered some wonderful things about myself through this writing journey - the story is in every room in every house and school! The story rides the train! The story runs around playgrounds with the children! All I have to do is call it over, capture it with my pen (or fingers) and off we go. It's very comforting to know that it's always there, in the shadows. Not creepy stalker like, but small child (or cat or dog) - waiting to be called over for some attention. I better not waste another moment. Mom's house gets quite busy and you never know when people are going to call. Happy Friday everyone! May you have a fun, well balanced weekend - lots of fun, lots of writing, lots of love love love!
(Note: the picture has nothing to do with the post, it's just an adorable picture from the 1930s of a boy and his pit bull that mom has on her computer.)
The stories are everywhere you go because the story is a part of you. Hopefully some magic went into patches -- I hope he feels better.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on the completed chapter. Maybe this morning you got another!
Beautiful, beautiful. Especially because this is not how I have been looking at my story. In my mind, it's not been a lurky stalker, nor has it been a loving pup waiting for my call. It's been that person--you know that one you met, maybe in college, who seemed super-friendly and quirky and with whom you chatted for hours the first night you met? And you swapped all your numbers and info and agreed to take line-dancing with? And then, you heard how she talked to her mother . . . and you saw how she ate with her mouth open CONSTANTLY . . . and when you sat in her car, you had to hold your breath because it smell so badly of Chinese food and sweatpants? That's kind of how I feel about my story. It's THAT person. That person I threw myself at, swearing we'd be BFFs, line-danced my a** off for, and now I'm sort of ignoring her calls.
ReplyDeleteSort of wishing to good-god I'd played it a little more aloof.
Oh, man, this is so mean! I feel like running to my story right now and apologizing! Where is the love?? I need to pull out Heather Sellers book and keep reading about the LOVE! :)