The struggle with long-form writing really hit home for me in yesterday’s story. The storyline poured into my memory. Long ago it was a mass jumble of high school and college spiral notebooks — all lost to the ages. Characters, a spiritual community, a world map, families, names, and plot ideas filled up notebooks. Some scenes made it onto pages, but most lived only in my head.
Words gestating in my mind, patiently waiting to be born.
That photo yesterday sparked memories to pour forth with an unexpected ease. As if the words truly had been incubating for 30 years in the deep recesses of my subconscious.
The process surprised me. I expected my first journey back into one of my novel ideas would have been one that had less complexity. I expected to find my first venture into the beginning of long-form to be influenced by my work life and fall more into the realm of science fiction and not fantasy.
I hope to be overcome by a memory again soon.
However, what I truly need to do is find a time to write in the day when I’m not juggling work, family, or exhaustion. When I don’t allow myself to fall into poetry or self-analysis because time and energy is short. Perhaps I can inspire myself over this upcoming long weekend.
In the meantime, I’ll nourish the depths of my mind with sleep.
251 Days to go.
© Randi Sumner