A Good Day

It may be gloomy outside but the sun is shining in my writing world.  For the first time in a long while (too long, actually)  I have had pictures springing into my mind so quickly that it's been hard to keep up.  It's a lovely feeling.  I can see the book enacted before my eyes and my job is to describe what I'm seeing as well as I can.  Once again, the whole process amazes me.  Things that I didn't know would happen are happening.  Characters that I was sure would be nothing more than background are resolutely pushing themselves forward.

I am curious to see where it all leads but for now I am enjoying the ride.  It is lovely to be writing what I want and not writing what others want.

'The Watcher'

I am beginning work on a short story entitled "The Watcher" - which takes place during a couple's honeymoon cruise.  I have most of the plot in my head so I have high hopes that the actual writing will not take too long.  Here's hoping to getting it right!

Aaron Sorkin wrote "(a writer) prays for a roll the way a farmer prays for rain".  He's so right.  So I now pray for rain.

Why can't I write like him?

In a Sea of Indifference

There are times when I have to wonder if it's all really worth it.  Writing is tough.  Many people seem to have this romantic view of a writer - sitting in a drafty attic, feverishly writing down the brilliance that flows into his brain.  I do not find it so.  I find it tricky.

It might be easier if I had grown up wanting to be a writer, but that simply isn't the case.  Writing seems to be something I always did but never paid much attention to.  I wrote all the plays that my class did in school.  I wrote short stories.  I wrote mystery scripts for various theatre companies.  But I always did it so that I could be IN the plays.  I find it amusing that the writing is now the way that I make my living.  Irony - not a fan?

It is a lonely life.  It would be nice to have others around so that I could bounce ideas off them - or simply to be able to hear another human voice during the day while my kids are at school.  It's a good thing, I suppose, that I have always been happy with my own company.

Enough of this whine of self-pity.  I'll get over it.  And I'll finish the mysteries that I've said I'll finish.

Grrrrrr.