I would like to think that as excited and inspired, as I am at times that words would just pour onto the page. But alas, that is not the case. Regardless of how inspired and excited one can be, writing is hard work.
I stare at the preverbial page, my mind goes blank, and my inspiration begins to wane. My excitement begins to die. I begin to wonder what I was so excited about in the first place. And my creativity . . . forget about it. Sound familiar?
I desperately search my mind, pushing back the panic that so easily creeps in, and I realize I haven’t a clue what to write. It sounded good when I first uttered the words in my mind but now they’ve vanished. It’s a blur. I should have jotted them down, taken notes, something.
Now it’s just another manic Monday and I’m scrambling — scrambling to put words to paper as it were. Now I have to dig in. The hard work truly begins. Word by word. Line by line. Thought by thought. Until suddenly a spark, and the right idea collides with the right words. It’s a beautiful thing. And a sentence is born, a chapter, a book or perhaps just a note to someone to say, “Don’t give up Jesus loves you and so do I.”
Whatever that spark produces, keep on doing the write thing children,
Guyanne
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