Yesterday I began clearing out our storeroom, all because my heroine wants me to write her story, but something holds me back. Is it my muse, or the instinct that comes from being a pantser, that tells me I'm not ready to commit her to paper just yet?
All I know is that for me to write, I ponder shift and sort ideas floating in my head until they gel and form a pattern.
As I shifted one of the boxes in the storeroom I came across an unopened box. It has been sealed shut for over twenty years.... Okay I hear you, so the cleaning out is long overdue. Curious, I opened a box that has traveled the world in our many moves - and came across a treasure trove. It contained my earlies attempts at writing... mostly short stories... so you know what I spent the rest of the yesterday doing... reading.
It was an odd experience getting a glimpse of the ideals and thoughts of my younger self. It made me realize that not only have I grown as a person in the past twenty-two years but even though I have only focused on my writing in a serious nature for the last four years, I have been flirting with writing a lot longer and have improved my craft considerably since then - proving the writer's adage - that the more you write the better you get.
Today I am still clearing out the storeroom, and thanks to my find yesterday, my heroine has taken more solid shape and become grounded. As I shift boxes, and add to the growing pile of rubbish, the story grows in my mind.
Tomorrow, I write.
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2 comments:
That's so amazing. I sometimes ponder what I wrote in highschool, because instead of partying and dating and doing stuff teenagers did, I spent my free time lost in my own thoughts writing.
I'm sure they suck now, but it would be a definite trip to read them.
I kept a few stories that I wrote in high school, but I have no idea where they are right now. I need to try and find them.
It's amazing to look back and see how much out thoughts and ideals change over the years. Some good, some bad.
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