Why I Write

Why doesn't everyone write, I wonder.

Every morning I get up and stumble through the day, living someone else's life, living with the fear that this "other" person will return and point an accusing finger. . .

IMPOSTOR!

And then everyone will know.

I gave up wondering about MY life a few years ago. Compared to the stories about the plight of Afghan women, oppressed peoples everywhere, how dare I complain about my vague sense of disconnectedness (what a GREAT word!). There is NOTHING wrong.

I'm not in pain. The roof doesn't leak. The car runs.

One foggy day (in a series of foggy months) I discovered The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. I picked up a pen and scratched out my morning pages. I picked up a pen and felt a gentle nudge, from inside. I picked up a pen and I wrote.

Through the many months and many pages of scribbling, through free writes and timed writes, character sketches, setting and plot diagrams, running outlines and scene sketches, I found me. Living in the corner of the dining room table, underneath a stack of non-fiction books on craft, inspiration, schedule, form, function, technique, and discipline, I found me.

Why do I write?

To connect.

I write so I can feel.

I write so I don't feel afraid.

Feelin' Groovy? NOT!

Today's mood: Oogy (a restless feeling, unsettled)

Home. Sunshine. A cup of coffee. Piles of pens. My notebook. I'm surfing the net. Chattin' with e-friends on the Max Martini Boards. Maybe I'll blog on NOT writing. Write about writing...that's almost like writing, isn't it? It's closer to writing than just READING about writing. I'm a creature craving my routine. I write when I'm in my groove. Where's my groove today? I guess I'm not feeling groovy, or would that be grooved?

My cure?

Back to finish my morning pages (Thank you, Julia Cameron).
Timed write on blogging perhaps (Thank you, Natalie Goldberg).
Then flip the page and rewrite the last few lines of the scene I'm working on...

Viola! or Eureaka! My groove. I'm groovy.

Well today, I'm just hoping for Not Ungroovy.

I've allocated an hour of uninterrupted time to finish a draft of my scene in the second chapter where Bridie gets out of the market. I've got to drive across town to meet my writing buddies in two and a half hours to spend the afternoon working on THEIR stuff, so I wanted to get MY stuff done first.

But I'm oogy.

I signed up to read at Monday's meeting, so I need something to read.

Get ready.
Get set.
WRITE!