My pen is moving every day now. I have filled nearly two dozen comp book pages in the last month (a prodigious rate for me at least), and the ink bottle is growing noticeably emptier. I am actually writing!
It is far too soon for me to book an agent. These are just words I am scribbling; they have no greater form. I have not set an unfailing course to actually write something. But the words are flowing and behind them, impossible to miss now that I am looking for it, is a soul returning to life, waking from torpor, starting to stretch and move. That soul is my own, and I am glad to claim it once again, to give it life and let it enliven me, to be me.
In the short term I can expect this burst of output to result in more posts on this and other blogs that I may be involved with. I hope that increased and steady posting will lead to enlivened readership, renewed feedback, and build a loop of encouragement that will help me keep moving the pen and pressing the keys.
In the long term? Well, dare I say that I might really have a book in me? Thoughts are taking shape, themes are emerging through repeated drafts, free-writing is bringing forward real strands of narrative, and ideas that have previously lain untouched are being taken up and added into the weaving. As Woody Allen has said, “80 percent of success is showing up,” and that is certainly holding true for my efforts to be a writer.
So I will continue to show up, to push the pen, to keep the ink wet on the page. I will keep on writing.