My fiancee, my friends and family, god bless them. They are supportive. They hoot and holler just as much as I do when I get a piece published. But…they don’t write.
Only other writers get it. The roller coaster ride of being a writer. How, as much as we deny it, we love the valleys as much as we do the peaks.
Because there’s a feeling you get…a tingling from your scalp to the very tips of your fingers as the first ideas of a story begins to spark; the mystery of imagining and the piecing together of ideas to create a new world, character, etc.; those first few pages that seem to have been plucked out of the ether to flow magically from your pen to paper; the tension you feel when you’re stuck, and you push and pull with yourself until finally you break through and have that “A-ha!” moment and suddenly are swept back up into the romanticism of it all in a frenzy of scribbling as ideas rush at you all at once.
See? To the outside observer, this may sound like torture. But to the writer – it’s Utopia.
[NWC]
Mary’s eerie tales inspire in readers the urge to double-check the deepest, darkest closets, to peer anxiously under the creakiest of beds, and to always sleep with the lights on.
It’s true; both that it’s utopia, and a lonely one. It’s always been something I kept to myself until pretty recently, when I realized, hey, I’m not the only one. Which is nice. I mean, we can say we don’t care what anyone else thinks, but even the most misanthropic of us must be a somewhat social creature, right?
.-= Katey´s last blog ..On Building Shiny Castles =-.