Don't Stop Me Now

My fingers are getting that itchy feeling. That sudden desire to claw at the keys to get words to escape in fours, fives, and hundreds onto a screen. I'm feeling that familiar pull to write. To just write and write and write. Finally after a few weeks, I've found a moment to do a little something about it. I certainly hope I don't have to wait much longer to do more.

My workload is increasing: at the office, at home, all of it. But with it comes this slow and steady build towards something. Toward what will be in four months, the next chapter outlining the beginning of the next adventure in my life, in my family's life. I am anxious to open it and begin writing. But as all good things, it cannot be sooner. Not yet.

In the meantime, let us prepare. Let us work, let me schedule my new classes, find our new home, and mostly, let me write. And write and write and write. Because if there is one thing I have learned in my life, it is that one can write wherever you are and whatever your circumstances, so long as you have the desire.

Pens and computers are merely a vessel. Your mind holds the meat of the story, the entire timeline, the characters, the setting, the plot and theme. All you need is that itch. That drive to create.

If you haven't done it, it is like learning an instrument or how to play a sport. You start with the basics, just the structure and the parts, then slowly, slowly, then faster as you progress, you create. If something doesn't work, cut the part that isn't working. Don't burn down the house because you don't like how the plumbing went in or how the bathroom looks. Just tear that part out and keep going. It can be done.

As for the rest of the day-to-day life, my highlights are reading nightly with my daughter. If you do not have that pleasure, I can promise there is no feeling as wonderful as reading a loved story alongside your child as they discover it for the first time. The laughter, the tears, their incredulity at the characters, or their confessions of love for other characters makes my heart full.

And then I think of my own creations. And how if I don't get them out, my children will never know them. Other children will never come to know them. Would that be a great tragedy? To not have my mind's precious stories shared? My husband assures me so. But the truth is, if I never share, the ones who may come to love them never get their chance to weigh in. Is that so fair?

So write for them, write for yourself. Write for the love of writing. Just write. And write and write and write some more. And eventually, something will come out of your mind that will make a difference.