I have not been looking forward to today.
This longest day marks a turning point: from now on it’s only summer and fall separating us from winter. Just six more months before the New Year.
So, where do I find myself on this noticeable day? Well, not where I wanted to be, nor planned to be. At this point, my determination to have my novel finished in 2010 is greatly challenged by the time factor, to say the least.
So I find myself tempted to let the guilt take over. Or the anger, and just lash out and wield total destruction. To be honest, it wouldn’t take a lot of wielding. My stories, my writing, this blog, together they form but a small construction, a delicate work in progress, that may very well be unnoticeable to anyone but me. It’s still in such a lucid stage; I could easily just overlook it, forget about it and let it go to waste.
Fact is, it has been over a month since my last blog post. Not including the morning pages, my writing has come to a complete standstill. Well, maybe not in my head, but it’s the same result either way. I let my work get in the way of my writing, again. I let the daily dragons keep me away from what I want to do and now I could just walk away. Let time turn what I built with my writing into the brittle remains of a dream, no one would ever know but me.
But then, I could look at it a different way.
Today, I find myself back behind the wheel. I see my fingers dancing over the keys once again, and as I strike them, I’m taking control and feel the blood pump through my veins. My imagination runs away with me.
Ah, that feels so much better.
I love that, after being away for some time, there is indeed something to come back to. For it to grow, it needs my commitment, my attention. I don’t know if what I have here will be enough to let it develop into a story. But it is what it is: tender as the smallest of tomato plants, with the potential to bear fruit.
I think that life involves more than worry about work, publishers on leave, the new mortgage, daily chores, the usual endless responsibilities. We need all of that, sure, but if that is all there is, who will look after the tomato plants? I have to safeguard the things that make me feel alive.
So here it is, my Midsummer vow:
Each day I will slay a dragon. And then I sit down and write.
Maai’s Creative Portfolio 
Writing a novel must seem a bit like pregnancy except that some “pregnancies” are longer than others and some births particularly difficult. Like pregnancy and childbirth, you may have people encouraging you and even giving assistance, in the end, only you can “produce”. I hope this makes some kind of sense!
Dear B, thanks so much for your comment.
It makes a lot of sense. I think that every writer has to find his/her own way. This pregnancy may be a long one. I won’t settle for ‘almost done’ or ‘nearly there’ – come to think of it, this does sound a lot like the real pregnancy I experienced, where I was 36 hrs in labour. My body was sort of refusing to let go. But that is something entirely different – I really need to continue with this writing of mine. I just have to find my own way to do it. And try to let myself not be so influenced by people and their expextations. That is a hard one.
XXX