Interim

...and so I find myself for the moment at least slowed
brought to a temporary stop between ideas possibilities thoughts and
I take this time to look out at the light golden on some leaves
emerald on others and I imagine each has it own story of how
it moves the water and minerals through vein and petiole
lures them up from the roots with promises of immortality or at least
a momentary glory at summer's height.


And there, I look for inspiration a renewed sense of purpose
where I delve and dig in the humus of my mind
readying it for the next seed or sprout
wondering what it will be what genus what shape it will take
where it will lead me through the maze of roots and tunnels dug by
other smaller things that ask no questions assume little but give much.


Then hands trembling I approach the task heft the spade and dig deep
the soil resisting at first then parting willingly sensing my love.


https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Lovejoy/e/B00JJ259DS

The Birth of a Story

After having spent a long and very productive day staring at a screen and at the same collection of words, I realized that the writing process is, metaphorically speaking, very similar to giving birth. First comes the planting of the seed, which is the idea. Then, like cells, that idea starts to grow as more words are added to it, thus increasing its bulk and its viability as a living breathing thing. (OK, maybe not breathing, but you writers know what I mean.)

The idea evolves, slowly or quickly, as the case may be, and takes on a life of its own while still dependent upon you for its sustenance. At last, after weeks and months of carrying it around close to your heart as it gets heavier and heavier, it's time to give birth. Thence comes the labor, the final push out into broad daylight where it assumes its own identity. At that point, just as life steps in to edit the human being, add meaningful content or cut away superfluous baggage, mold and shape it into the gem that it is destined to be, you polish the piece of writing until it becomes The Finished Story.

It's late at night, and it's done. Your eyes burn and your whole body aches from the strain, and after what seemed to go on forever, there it is, this beautiful creation that is yours and yours alone. You spend the last few moments alone with it before announcing its birth and sharing it with the world.

And it won't matter if everyone looks at it and says, "That is the ugliest story I've ever seen." To you, it will always be beautiful, because you love it.

https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Lovejoy/e/B00JJ259DS