I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.
It’s true. I re-watched The Sound of Music last weekend, even before Disney+ recommended it after we finished Hamilton.
It was one of the first movies I remember seeing in the theater. My neighbors took me. We had to drive an hour to a neighboring city to see it.
The other movie I remember seeing early one was the one time I remember my Dad going with us to the movies. We saw Jimmy Stewart in Shenandoah. I need to watch that again.
Family legend has it that I also saw How the West Was Won when I was just a few months old. Then, in true pioneer fashion, we apparently drove home from Norfolk to Southwest Virginia in a major snowstorm.
I may be making that up, but that’s how I remember the story.
I grew up in the mountains.
As a child, and even as a young adult, I don’t think I appreciated the absolute beauty of my home in the New River Valley.
Now every time I go back, I am full of wonder when I think “I got to grow up here.”
For reasons I can’t quite explain, I’ve always felt more drawn to the ocean than the mountains.
My Aunt, who grew up in Southwest Virginia, but as an adult always felt the need to live on the coast, told me that I’m drawn to the water because I was born under the Cancer sign.
I don’t really follow astrology, but I am known to be crabby on occasion, and I’ve actually survived cancer, so there’s that.
What was I writing about?
Oh yeah, I started out to talk about where I get my writing inspiration.
Well, it comes from the mountains, from the oceans, and sometimes from a cup of coffee…or six.
I know the experts tell you that writers should not talk about writing, but should just write.
You know, show, don’t tell.
But, a lot of time, we end up talking about writer’s block.
The older I get, and the more I write, I don’t think writer’s block is really a thing.
True story, I could sit at a keyboard and write solidly for hours.
The challenge, the block if you will, comes in trying to write something worthwhile, or in choosing a particular subject about which to write.
That’s why I don’t see myself as a copywriter. I’m just not inspired, if you will.
But I’ll always have something to talk about. Even though the draft of my (current) novel project is titled Not Much to Talk About.
That’s a working title and it could be that if I actually stick with it the first review in The New York Times will say “What does he mean? He talks too much.”
A boy can dream. In fact, a boy can be inspired.
I’m inspired by the mountains, by the beaches, and yes, by movies.
And, sometimes I write an inspiring blog post.
It may or may not be this one.