I remember simple.
Simple was standing on my father's shoes while we danced to song on the radio. Simple was the smell of clean laudry pulled off the clothesline on a summer day. Simple was staring up at puffy clouds and seeing dolphins, or ships or dragons sailing above.
It wasn't about weather.
Simple was about play. It was about innocence. It was about slowing down long enough to notice the beauty around you. And who has time for that these days, right?
I'm making the time because after struggling for a year with writer's block and a near-dead muse, I've decided to clean up my act. In 2010, I am reacquainting myself with simplicity. And you know what?
Writers stress over creating believable characters and ignore the characters of friends, family, coworkers.
Writers stress over the pacing of their WIPS and forget to slow down to take the dog for a long walk or say hi to an elderly neighbor.
Writers stress over plot holes but don't always see the heart holes in the fabric of their life stories.
I'm done with stressing. I'm back to simple.
So grab a mug of hot cocoa, pull up a chair and let the story begin...again!