Time.

One word that can drive a writer bananas. Sure we have the same amount of the stuff as everyone else. Right? Yet when an idea is bubbling and taking form it seems to take forever sometimes.

Gads.

Then it happens. The ta-dum moment. And off you zip. Whether you paint or write songs or put together ships or are planning your dream home. Time. All things creative need that one element to become.

To unfold and be.

We all could stand to sit still a tad more. To unfurl thoughts and see where they lead. I’m thrilled to share that I seem to be off and running with this new novel. I am. Not going to say another word about it. Just that it’s taking shape.

My storyboard is filling up. Characters are poking me when I’m trying to sleep. I couldn’t be more thrilled.

Go find some time and follow your creative stuff…

Something as simple as a vase made years ago by Ken’s mother, holds more than pine from the farm and ornaments once my grandmothers—it holds memories. This was one of the few things that survived our house fire.

Here it is for us to fill.

I use it all year around; pine branches now, dried weeds in the fall and wild flowers in the spring all the way through summertime. It holds sunshine and hope, gives what it holds a chance to grace our table, standing quiet, the golden shape of a deer emblazoned forever into bisque.

Smoke stains left in the creases remind us of the past, what it holds keeps us in the present.

We surround ourselves with our memories, but take time to see them. If something as simple as a vase holds you back, put some sunshine inside and make your own present.

So—the old adage of, “as fate would have it” has come to pass.

It has.

I was simply not able to muster the proper oomph (a technical writing term) to revisit Eve & Ruby.

At least not now.

Which means I have a new and exciting novel I’m mapping out and this go around I think I’ll keep it under wraps until at least the first draft is shaped and formed and bubbling away.

One of the many things I’ve learned about being a word-artist is to know when a project is not panning out is to step away and let something new take shape.

Getting out of your own way to allow a fresh flow of energy to sweep your imagination toward a new direction—now that’s what art is all about. Letting go to forge ahead.

Now get out of your way and start something.

Who in the world named this process canning? Honestly. I really enjoy it, whatever you call it. The process itself is tedious and time-consuming and makes a huge mess. But later, say during a winter snowstorm, it’s a huge joy to take down a jar of tomato juice, pop off the cover and enjoy all that sunshine in there.

Funny—how we think we can indeed do that, capture sunshine.

Yet this very same thought process is what makes a good story a great read. See how I snuck right into novel writing from canning some tomatoes? Honestly, writing is similar to say, baking bread too. You have certain ingredients you have to add into a story to make it unfold in just the right manner. Too much, say, backstory and the reader gets bored. Not enough plot twists or too many characters can really flatten a tale. Same for bread-making. Too much flour and you’ve got a brick on your hands. I should know, I used to bake bricks.

So many ingredients roll into a good novel. The one I’m currently writing has begun to take on a life of its own. Not that I’m not involved, it’s all me in there, but once a story begins to unfold, if all the pieces are lining up, well, I really simply need to show up!

Let the canning/writing continue!