It’s taken several days for the rust to be shaken, but as today’s title suggests, I’ve just kept chugging along with The Hawk. Sort of startling to think I’ve brought this story along this far, but even when chapters were being written as if pulled out through my nostrils, somehow the plot continues to bubble.
If I said the last ten days or so were painful, I’d be hitting the mark. Sometimes writing happens as if by magic, but not always.
However, in addition to furthering this tale, I’ve learned something about myself, both as a writer and a person of faith; keep going regardless of the confusion or the pain. The words may not seem to make sense, the purpose elusive. But maybe more than we’d like to think about our lives, our reasons for being here are at times to simply BE.
That’s not glamorous or even personally satisfying. It’s a quiet, often obscured path, but right now it’s where I’m being led to investigate, through words and scattershot paragraphs that upon further inspection actually seem to make sense.
Obedience does lead to cohesiveness, if one is willing to set aside presumptions.
Amid the random musings of my writerly mind, I finished up the place mats and coasters. That was a fun project, which was supplemented by hand-quilting on the Big Bright Quilt. Now I wonder what I got myself into, choosing to hand-quilt that behemoth, but the same could be said for continuing a novel-in-progress that has chalked up over two hundred chapters. There’s a lot going on in Part 11, so I’m being careful to not overlook plot points. I know a few will escape my eyes, but that’s what revisions are for. Yet, I don’t wish this story to get too convoluted, so it’s important to go slowly as not to miss anything.
That’s what I told myself last week as my fingers plodded along the keyboard like the last thing I wanted was to be seated in front of my computer still telling this tale. My goodness, isn’t this novel ever going to end?
But as most writers will say, often it’s not up to us. We’re at the whim of our creative natures which ebb and flow, and when the tide is low, there’s not much to be done other than wait for it to roll back onto the shore. Sunday and today were good examples of my digits and brain working together. That was reassuring, not only in recognizing that yes, the tide had come back in, but that when darkness falls, daylight is only hours away.
Yet it’s more than that; it’s accepting that while the dawn has already risen for some, perhaps for me it’s still invisible. I need to be patient, I need to just BE. My previous writing style was ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, here’s a rough draft! This effort is nothing like that in method or scope of the project. It’s like comparing place mats to a nearly king-sized comforter, which I can’t fairly do. Not that one is less important than the other, they merely have different uses. All I wrote in the past prepped me for this day, but to wring my hands over a still unfinished novel is silly. Just keep writing is the key, just keep the faith. Chapter 203 is waiting for tomorrow. What an amazing chapter I imagine it’s going to be!