Yes, we’re going to have rain for a few days here in So Cal! This is good news for our ice packs in the mountains and conjures up dreamy days of writing with warm, chicken noodle soup in one hand and the sound of raindrops accompanying our happy keystrokes.
Ah, if only writing was that easy.
It isn’t. It’s grueling work, rewriting, recasting characters at times, rejection, then revise. A lot of “Rs” in that sentence, but would you have it any other way?
In a perfect world, maybe. But in a perfect world there’s no room to grow, no new corner to peek into and find another angle to a story, no misstep that takes you down a new path, no angst that brings life to a story, no heart.
So as we embark on our days’ long rainy weather, grab that chicken soup anyway, enjoy the raindrops tapping against your window, and write.
Rain can be the chicken soup for your story, but hard work makes it happen!
Jina
PS — last month I talked about Instagram: here are some video poems I’ve made recently:
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Romance under a umbrella . . . you never know what’s next. A kiss, perhaps? Yes, we’re going to have rain for a few days here in So Cal! This is good news for our ice packs in the mountains and conjures up dreamy days of writing with warm, chicken noodle soup in one hand […]
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I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
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I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
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Romance under a umbrella . . . you never know what’s next. A kiss, perhaps? Yes, we’re going to have rain for a few days here in So Cal! This is good news for our ice packs in the mountains and conjures up dreamy days of writing with warm, chicken noodle soup in one hand […]
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I discovered early on that I inherited the gift of the gab from my large Irish family when I penned a story about a princess who ran away to Paris with her pet turtle Lulu. I was twelve.
Comrade! You gave me a wistful smile.
Hey, Ada, thanks for stopping by! Glad you enjoyed the post.