I'm at a crossroads. I can feel it. I can tell that the source of my words is fading, fading with each passing day. It isn't that I don't have anything to talk about, I do, yet what I have to say hasn't formed itself into the right story yet. And that is just it. I am without a story to tell. I doubt I will ever be one of those authors that can string together words to sentences; sentences to paragraphs; paragraphs to chapters; and chapters to a book - all revolving around fictional characters. I don't have the creativity. No, I'm not self effacing here, I just simply don't "feel" it.
I had the pleasure tonight of meeting a woman, whose name I will keep to myself, that has just recently written a book and sent to a publisher. Her story is set in the late 1800's and is a romance/suspense novel. I could have talked to her for hours. How did she develop the characters? How did she know what to base her story on? How did she make them fall in love? Etc, etc. I was, and am, quite envious of her ability. Here's why...
A few months ago, I didn't have a problem with my blog. Everything I posted poured through me. The words spilled out faster than my fingers could type them. Even with many, many proofreads I still couldn't get the sentences to come out, but I knew the message was there. But now, now, I'm struggling and, sadly, I know why. I know what is different between then and now. I know the exact thing that is causing this word drought in my writing, my life. That change? Me. I've changed. I'm a different person than I was just three short months ago. I'm not the same girl. I'm never going to be that girl again. Yet...
Truth is, I don't know if this is a good thing. I don't know if the changes in me are the right changes, the best changes. I have made some good choices and some poor choices. I have listened to some good advice and regrettably followed some bad too. I've taken the easy road all the while longing for the hard one. After all, isn't the hard road the one we learn the most on? It's the road where our character is built and our faith is tested and made complete. Yeah, that road. I bypassed it when I took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. Ha! Now I find myself longing for a U-turn. A do-over. That thing that will bring the words back to my story.
I desperately want to tell my story. I have so much to share. I have a plot. Characters. Highs and lows. Suspense. Intrigue. Love. Sadness. Hope. I have a story worth sharing. But the source, the thing that brings these simple things to life, the key ingredient if you will, is missing. I left it somewhere between February 13th and yesterday. It's there. In those months. I've tapped into it a time or two, when I've needed the words to come out. There was enough power there to fuel them, the right ones, that is.
I'm searching again for it. That source. I know where it is. I know how to make the words come back and the story to unfold. It's on that road, the one I stopped traveling because I wanted to take it my way. So, bare with me as my words trickle in. As they stumble around on these virtual pages. It's a struggle here. A hard fought battle. One for the right words and the perfect story. One for my life and the way I should live it. Who knows, perhaps this piece, the U-turn, will become a chapter.
Time can only tell - especially when creating a story.