I still can’t fully comprehend it, but it kinda grows on ya: the idea that whatever or whoever I meet out there is intimately connected to me. Created by me even, as puzzle pieces that perfectly fit the grand picture I’m creating for myself. When the syncs subside for a moment, I tend to forget all the wonderful stuff that’s happened already, and moan that things aren’t going my way. But sooner or later, it picks up again, and the blasts from the past come back into memory for my enjoyment…..
Now, I basically am where I was a couple of months ago, except that the anxiety of wanting to see it come out has just about vanished. Life is the way it is, no more need to figure it out, just doing what I like doing most. And if in a wave of depression I forget to do that, an angel is sent to gently remind me.
Like Ben for instance: he materialized on my daily train trip about two weeks ago, and 3D reasoning for that would be that he temporarily lives in another town, which is on the same route. To me however, he represents a very interested party of my reading public, who asked about my books the moment he knew I was a writer, and had very interesting stuff to say about writing in general, and my writing in particular: "Why don’t you write teenage fiction?" he asked last week. His argument was that teens nowadays are the book-buying public, and from my own experience, that is so: my girls own far more books, movies and games than me, even though I’m not Daddy Warbucks when it comes to handing out their monthly allowance. But they devour the writing of Stefanie Meyer (Twilight), J.K. Rowling (Harry Potter), and others. And just reading the book ain’t enough, if it’s good, the movie has to be theirs as well.
So yes, I did let it sink in, and started writing last monday. Yesterday the first chapter was finished, so I’ll be busy for another three to four hundred pages yet. All the while virtually forgetting about that which, because of wishes expressed in the past (and in the second novel) is not quite finished in my life. I do still have my moments of just being, but writing has now subdued that a bit. You can’t just be all the time, right?
As for now, one of the servers needs a little work. I was waiting for it to do its job, but now that it has, it’s my turn to do….
Love your moments,