I'm sitting here at my writing desk, trying to get some edit/rewrites done. The words don't seem to be coming. Not for that, at any rate. I'm finding plenty of inspiration and words, just not for actual writing projects, it seems.
And I look up to see this.
Caused by the afternoon fall sun coming through the living room window, and hitting the wall just so.
A strange reminder that timing is everything. And no amount of flailing will make things come out right, not the way they're intended, until their time has come.
And when that time does come, you need to be prepared to seize the moment, freeze it and hold it, and make the most of it.
Don't rail that the words won't come. Wait, and prepare for the moment when they flow forth like a geyser. It'll happen, it's just a matter of patience and preparation.
Nothing good has ever come of forcing it.
It's why I'm editing/rewriting, as a matter of fact.
And I look up to see this.
Caused by the afternoon fall sun coming through the living room window, and hitting the wall just so.
A strange reminder that timing is everything. And no amount of flailing will make things come out right, not the way they're intended, until their time has come.
And when that time does come, you need to be prepared to seize the moment, freeze it and hold it, and make the most of it.
Don't rail that the words won't come. Wait, and prepare for the moment when they flow forth like a geyser. It'll happen, it's just a matter of patience and preparation.
Nothing good has ever come of forcing it.
It's why I'm editing/rewriting, as a matter of fact.
coo-L
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