I've been having a great time with my writing classes and groups the past few days because we're not only talking about writing, but just talking. And all this talk has gotten me to do a lot of thinking.
I spent this past weekend on the coast in a gorgeous beach house, the sound of the surf always looming in the background. I brought my laptop w/ me, of course; and yet, everytime I sat down to write, I stared at a blank screen.
As my PIC would say, shitters.
Perhaps I just needed time to think. Think about my characters, their voices, their truths, etc. Perhaps I haven't done enough talking. I need to talk about them. I need to talk to them.
What I have been thinking about lately, however, is how much I love being a writer. I've also been thinking about the things that used to juice me as a writing teacher, and those things have gotten lost along the way. It's like a marriage that starts to go stale, after the romance fades. You need to go back to the place where you had your first date, the songs you used to listen to, the shows you watched, the conversations you had, etc. This week seems to have been about rekindling the romance.
God, I love being a writer. That love is beyond romance; it is eternal.