Do you feel that? That. That feeling deep inside your breast, that flutter at your heart, like something small and winged trying to escape.
A butterfly, or maybe a golden snitch.
What you feel are words, and they are trying to escape. They want to find their way out, maybe onto a page, maybe into your computer, but out of your chest where you have been keeping them locked away for much too long.
Take a minute to close your eyes. If you feel that flutter, small but insistent, you are a writer, and it is time to get back to writing.
I felt that flutter this weekend. I closed my eyes, and that flutter grew. Stronger. More insistent. And I heard a siren's song, and I took out a pen and paper and called on Homer's muses, and I wrote for the first time in what felt like years.
I wrote until my hands cramped, until there was a red indent against my finger where the pen had pushed against it too hard. Until my back ached from bending over my desk in a position that it had not maintained in much too long.
I wrote until I felt drained.
I wrote until I felt elated.
I'm an author, and I finally took the time to release those fluttering words. It was Saturday night, after a busy day of graduating from college and going out to a celebratory dinner and exhausting myself with friends and family. With one weight off my shoulders, I was able to relax and get back to something I truly love.
And as the words were transferred from my heart to the paper in a flow of blue ink, I realized that I should have made time to write earlier. That I should not have waited to relax to write, I should have written to relax. Because I am a writer, and that flutter in my breast was a sign of what I really needed, deep down, to do.
If you're a writer, take the time to write. If you have writer's block and can't come up with that next word or next scene, skip to something new. A future scene, or a piece of the backstory. Or something completely unrelated. Write down the first paragraph from one of your favorite books, just to get your mind and body into writing mode. And write.
It is what you were meant to do.
Clear a space for yourself. Tidy the room, clear the desk. Turn on some music, light a candle. Take out a notebook, a laptop, or a pile of scratch paper. Shut out the world, close yours eyes, and feel those words in your breast.
And let them loose.
You are a writer. Now write.
A butterfly, or maybe a golden snitch.
What you feel are words, and they are trying to escape. They want to find their way out, maybe onto a page, maybe into your computer, but out of your chest where you have been keeping them locked away for much too long.
Take a minute to close your eyes. If you feel that flutter, small but insistent, you are a writer, and it is time to get back to writing.
I felt that flutter this weekend. I closed my eyes, and that flutter grew. Stronger. More insistent. And I heard a siren's song, and I took out a pen and paper and called on Homer's muses, and I wrote for the first time in what felt like years.
I wrote until my hands cramped, until there was a red indent against my finger where the pen had pushed against it too hard. Until my back ached from bending over my desk in a position that it had not maintained in much too long.
I wrote until I felt drained.
I wrote until I felt elated.
I'm an author, and I finally took the time to release those fluttering words. It was Saturday night, after a busy day of graduating from college and going out to a celebratory dinner and exhausting myself with friends and family. With one weight off my shoulders, I was able to relax and get back to something I truly love.
And as the words were transferred from my heart to the paper in a flow of blue ink, I realized that I should have made time to write earlier. That I should not have waited to relax to write, I should have written to relax. Because I am a writer, and that flutter in my breast was a sign of what I really needed, deep down, to do.
If you're a writer, take the time to write. If you have writer's block and can't come up with that next word or next scene, skip to something new. A future scene, or a piece of the backstory. Or something completely unrelated. Write down the first paragraph from one of your favorite books, just to get your mind and body into writing mode. And write.
It is what you were meant to do.
Clear a space for yourself. Tidy the room, clear the desk. Turn on some music, light a candle. Take out a notebook, a laptop, or a pile of scratch paper. Shut out the world, close yours eyes, and feel those words in your breast.
And let them loose.
You are a writer. Now write.
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