We are on day 233 of 15 days to slow the spread.
I am surrounded by story ideas. My home office is stuffed and overflowing with memories, books, trinkets, show programs, and now a wall full of houseplants that have taken refuge from the front porch.
Still, writing is a challenge. Finding that perfect thing to write about is hard.
Not to mention that I’m on my fourth or fifth configuration as I try to figure out the virtual Santa setup.
I’ve realized that I really do need to get out more.
You’ll recall last Wednesday’s post was prompted by my journey home to Southwest Virginia.
It was an good trip.
I went home to see my Mom. She won’t like me telling you that she’s ninety. But, I’m 62 and, well, you do the math. She still lives by herself and gets herself around town. I can only hope that I’m as mobile, and as coherent, at that age.
Anyway, on the trip, with the music flowing the the mountains approaching and all of the memories flooding in, the story ideas just kept coming.
One right after another.
I almost typed one write after another…which sort of works.
Over the next few weeks since I’ll be consumed with the Santa gig and, for now, they want me to keep the day job, I won’t have as much time to write.
I’ll try to write here, and I’ll keep up with my daily goal to write at least a thousand words.
But I’m realizing that the story ideas may just keep coming.
In fact, that’s sort of what we writers do. We find the story in everything.
Then we have to work at telling it.
And, it is work.
Sometimes there’s inspiration that just causes the words to flow.
Sometimes inspiration comes by parking your fanny in a chair with your beverage of choice at hand and forcing yourself to hit the keyboard.
That doesn’t mean that the writing is necessarily good every time you sit down.
To paraphrase Hemingway, all first drafts are crap.
It’s about the doing. It’s about the storytelling.
What I’m getting at is that I’ve realized that during our 47 years of house arrest, I’ve lost some of that inspiration. Some of that writing magic.
Getting out into the open road sort of brought that back.
I need to do more of that. Even in the time of COVID.
Have mask, will travel, so to speak.
On the one hand, this is exciting.
On the other, it’s a bit frustrating because there is no free time over the next two months.
So, I keep my little black notebook beside my to make notes when the story ideas come.
With any luck, those notes might lead to writing.