I wanted to use Fridays to regularly share something I have made. It’s nice to have an outlet for your bragging instead of just forcing it on your family and friends who have known you long enough to no longer be impressed.
Recently however, I have found my voice again, and am back on a book I set down almost four months ago, and making progress. My mind had continued to work on the story, finally determining what was wrong, and how to fix it. Now, I can’t seem to pull myself away from my keyboard to do even the most basic and mundane things. Eating? I can do it while I type. Showering? Only to avoid my own stench. Cleaning? Bah. That’s what air freshener is for.
It also means I have three projects, each about half done sitting on my craft table behind me. I considered showing you a picture of something I did a few weeks ago, but I should be honest from the start. Sometimes I won’t have a new completed project to share with you. Sometimes, I will let other things slide to follow my muse. Sometimes I thank my lucky stars you cannot see the ripped sweats I am wearing simply because they are all that is clean.
Because this is the truth about being a writer. There are many important things in my life, but when the moment is right, they can all fall away as I rush to write the words before I lose them. It’s more than a desire to tell a story, or even a desire to live the story. It is a desperate need, deep inside me, to get the story out. When I let other things slide, it is not because I suddenly stopped caring about them. I let things go, because if I don’t get the words out, they will eat at me, tearing me apart from the inside, until I cannot possibly be anything other than a vessel barely holding the story. I let the other things go, because the need to write becomes greater than my need to breathe.
And for me, that is how it should be.