This year I am looking to challenge myself in new ambitions, which I hope will also yield engaging experiences. I've heard before that writing is a muscle. If not used, you risk losing it. I have experienced dry spells that have lasted years and have had to move on to other hobbies until the spark revived at one of the lowest points in my life. The experience renewed me because it provided an outlet that was desired desperately. That outlet yielded the door to swing open, which I thought might have been shut forever. It let me basque in a familiar and safe place to escape my ordinary world. In it, I might relish in a gambit of emotions and thoughts come to life. I could leave them there where I would be free of them. Back in the real world, a balance was achieved, and I was at peace again.
At the back of my mind, though over the last several months, the inkling of doubt teases that perhaps the fuel runs low. The door that was wide open since 2016, when I wrote my first short story, slowly closes. My gift of storytelling could go dormant for a time. Would a slumber of sorts be so bad?
I fear it like a menace lurking in the shadows. Writing comforts unlike anything else in my life because, for me, it is the most intimate space I inhabit. The compulsion to write wakes me at night like those chattering people in my head that demand their stories. To lose that, to hear these people go quiet, would feel like I lose part of myself.
As much as the process of writing drives me to extremes in the areas it covers that test my morals and spirituality, I find it rewarding. It gives me life and a purpose. Beyond that, I struggle to see what the future brings. I will do everything in my power to not lose that sense of self, which is perhaps the scariest consideration.
Naturally, then I don't want to be lost. I like who I am in the sum of my parts being curious, working a great day job that I enjoy most days because the mission is a sound one. It stimulates one part of my brain that is analytical and solves problems. I love my husband who attends to my emotional needs, my house, which gives me a sanctuary, my cat who gives me company in the midnight hours I click away in the other place and the friends and family I have been blessed with to spend time when not otherwise busy.
Most of all, I love the passions that center me in writing. Thus, I must attend to my craft. Feed it. Not let it get lazy. Air it out and nurture it so that it might grow wise and inspiring.
Time, though, is a finite creature. Having enough of it to do all the things demanding attention can present constraints that are expected yet frustrating as hell. Other areas of my life besides my greedy master consume much of my time while offering exciting opportunities. My mother used to say that: You must take the time to do the things you love no matter how hard that might be. I heed that advice as best I can, but it isn't easy.
Regardless, I love when reminders of this outlook arise while I research ideas that appeal to my senses and influence my storytelling. I help this process listen to audio drama podcasts that have excellent means of letting me slip away from myself like The No Sleep Podcast, The Leviathan Chronicles, and The Dark Tome. I also attempt to read a little every day, either other authors on Booksiesilk.com or paperbacks that I have not touched since their purchase. Tsk. Tsk. The latter do appear rather pretty on the bookshelf next to my workstation. Ha!
The book Once Again has a novella by Cameron Dokey called Beauty Sleep which I read before bed. As a sort of new year’s resolution, I am determined to finish it this month. Next month, I hope to continue the trend to read another book. I do love reading as much as writing but have made so many excuses in the past. No more, I say! It’s about time I enjoy an adventure away from my own story space and explore another.
Since this is Love month, I hope to consider a romantic escapade in letting go and reveling in all the finer things in life that make it worth living. It seemed to be an ambitious start, but I know I can do it. Time waits for no one, especially me. Therefore, there is no time like the present to find what stimulates me and see where that might lead.
