Sometimes the
simplest things can be the hardest to achieve.
Hours, days or weeks pass, for some maybe even months, with nothing; a
wordless page, an empty document, a mind void of inspiration and full of
hesitation. For me it was four weeks;
four weeks of numbing dead space inside my cranium. I had been steaming ahead with editing my
second book in my trilogy, boldly confident that I would soon be back to
writing the rest of book three in no time at all. I was wrong.
Two illnesses
in four weeks grounded me, with no energy to lift my head let alone a pencil or
a finger to write. Frustration overcame
me and I was filled with discontent. I
did all I could do, which was to heal myself as quickly as nature would
allow. Suddenly, the thought of editing
book two became a chore to loathe and I took the unsung advice of spirit and
rested. When I was well again, I
knitted, I read, I baked and slept well.
This week,
having had no news from my first submission to agents after their customary
waiting period, I returned to my first book and set about evaluating it with
fresh eyes and mind. It worked! From somewhere deep inside I pulled the
rabbit from the proverbial hat and, with scathing hand, sculpted the start of
my trilogy into a tighter and better paced story. Confidence finds me again, windswept on that
creative headland, words rushing past my ears and a sea of opportunity lashing
the edited rocks beneath. I am content.
No comments:
Post a Comment