Good Sunday morning, everyone!
It's a gorgeous June day here in New Jersey which makes me anxious. Anxious? You said the day was gorgeous, Sue. Why would you be anxious?
Because, dear readers, I'm torn. I could begin the day sipping my morning coffee on my patio, enjoying the playfulness of my dogs, Esmeralda and Jasmine, or I could be at my Mac editing my latest book for my agent.
Have you ever felt the guilt of knowing you have to put your butt to the chair and finish that book you've been writing for the past eleven months? Or characters and plots for a new book have been swirling inside your head for so long, you know you have to put them down on paper or they'll disappear?
Ah, summer! Though I love the season, it's also quite the temptress. I had a writing friend who used to give up writing for the summer months and just enjoys the sun-filled, lazy days. A lot of us are not like that, though.
But, today, I've decided that I will spend the day on my patio, drinking my coffee, watching my puppies frolic, and making sure my husband doesn't burn down the trees in our backyard while barbecuing later.
Take time for myself. That's what I'll do today. All the while cringing a bit inside as I hear my characters calling me.
No worries, I tell myself. They'll be there tomorrow - making trouble, making love, and making me crazy.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Thursday, June 4, 2015
A WRITER'S MAGICAL WORDS
Once upon a time...
As a child growing up in the Bronx, my mother would take me to the library at least once a week. In 1960, there were hardly any bookstores, and as far as pulling down reading material from "the cloud", well, the only clouds were the ones just before a storm.
My mother would pick out a book for herself and then take me to the children's section where I would spend a good hour choosing my own books for the next two weeks. Then, we'd traipse back to our apartment on Carpenter Avenue and allow the magic of "once upon a time" to begin.
Now, as a writer, those words mean something quite different, something much bigger. The magic attached to them is still there, of course, only when they course through my brain, I know that I'm about to begin writing a new book.
That phrase from so long ago still takes me on a journey of twists and turns, plot lines and characters, and themes and conflicts. And after all the many years I've been writing, ONCE UPON A TIME still evokes the passion that reminds me to "make magic" with my words.
As a child growing up in the Bronx, my mother would take me to the library at least once a week. In 1960, there were hardly any bookstores, and as far as pulling down reading material from "the cloud", well, the only clouds were the ones just before a storm.
My mother would pick out a book for herself and then take me to the children's section where I would spend a good hour choosing my own books for the next two weeks. Then, we'd traipse back to our apartment on Carpenter Avenue and allow the magic of "once upon a time" to begin.
Now, as a writer, those words mean something quite different, something much bigger. The magic attached to them is still there, of course, only when they course through my brain, I know that I'm about to begin writing a new book.
That phrase from so long ago still takes me on a journey of twists and turns, plot lines and characters, and themes and conflicts. And after all the many years I've been writing, ONCE UPON A TIME still evokes the passion that reminds me to "make magic" with my words.
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