Waiting for the Words
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Sometimes you just have to decide: A book, this current book I'm writing, is going to take a long time. Days to conjure a single scene. More days to find the words. Many more to find the right ones. I'd been upset with myself for thinking (it seemed) inefficiently and without directed purpose, but then this morning I decided: Let the process be. Let the book find itself. Wait for the fog to burn off. Know that what I have is good, and trust more good to follow.
Live in the meantime.
How freeing it was, to decide. To say: On this one matter, at least, I will not berate myrself. I will, when I am stuck, read. I will sit outside. I will take a long walk with my son, and tonight I will join old friends at dinner and laugh until I cannot even breathe.
Now, alone in the house, I watch the clouds unstack themselves. I sit near the breeze.
Tomorrow a page may come, or it may not. That, too, is writing.
