In honor of getting back to my creative roots, I’m taking things slow. It’s easier to build up momentum that way. I wholeheartedly agree with jumping in with both feet, usually, but this time, things feel like a slow-burn approach. Mostly because jumping in feels foreign and uncomfortable. It’s not something I’m used to anymore. In fact, it feels like something I’ve never done, even though I know that isn’t true. So I keep telling myself this is the way to do it. Don’t guilt yourself into it. Don’t feel bad if you don’t. Do what feels right. Even though I know once I get going, it will feel right. It’ll feel normal…for the first time in a long time. If I know that, why does it feel hard? Why does it feel like I’m a hack? Like a wannabe? Why is it uncomfortable to sit down and create? That, my friends, is the question. A slow-burn approach, ( i.e. only utilizing writing when it feels good) isn’t extremely productive when it comes to word count. This I know. But it allows me to do what I love to do most before a world unfolds; daydream. Often times I won’t talk to anyone about a book I’m working on. Not in the early stages. I have a strange legend-like fear that tells me if I voice the idea too soon, it may leave. Maybe it hasn’t grown roots in my soul yet and all it takes is a whisper to allow it to escape, never to be seen again. Foolish? Perhaps. But not a risk I’m willing to take. Maybe I just want to keep it to myself for a little while longer. That seems equally as likely. When I’m ready to talk, it’s either because I have it all figured out and I’m excited, or more often than not, I’m stuck. I enjoy having a soundboard; someone to talk about my ideas with. They don’t even need to speak or provide me with the answers. I just need to talk and the problems resolve themselves, or the ideas unfold in a natural way. In some cases, I need feedback on what I’m thinking or where I’m stuck. With that in mind, an interesting thing happened to me on the weekend. As you know, it’s been a few years and then some since I published a novel. In that time, it appears my oldest little girl has grown up. They both have, in fact, quite a bit more than I’m comfortable with, but alas, such is life. I digress. With the knowledge of my oldest having grown up seemingly overnight, an interesting thing happened. She became a part of the soundboard system. Usually, it’s me and my wife, but this time, she jumped right in too. I guess she’s old enough to partake now. Who knew? So here we...
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