Turning on the Faucet
“Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” –Louis L’Amour
This quote by my favorite western author has truly rung true with me during this week. When I left school on Friday, the day when my spring break officially began, I just knew this would be a productive week for me –writing wise. And, well, it wasn’t totally unproductive. I did still give at least an hour (sometimes more) to my writing every day. But when I look at the big picture all I did was finish the first draft of a short story and begin edits on another short story, one that I have now decided needs to be taken apart and completely re-written. I don’t like the one person narrator, so I’m going to re-write it offering the reader the point of view of both the male and female character. And I read. A little.
I’m currently reading what is not yours is not yours by helen oyeyemi and it makes for some truly slow reading. This is not to say the stories in the book are not enjoyable, but they are the type of stories that you take your time reading, not the type you gobble up quickly. I like both types of stories. So, I’m not complaining about the quality of the stories. Just saying that when I look at what I’ve accomplished this week, I feel like I’ve accomplished very little.
Last night, a friend of mine asked me: “Do you ever feel that no matter what you do or at the end of the day (look back and realize) it never seems like you’re doing enough?” And my reply was, “Yes.” The friend went on to add more, but it really wasn’t necessary. I knew the feeling exactly because I’ve been feeling it this week. He added: “By that I mean like the dreams and goals you are trying to accomplish, does it ever feel like you’re not doing enough to accomplish them?” Again, I replied, “Yes.”
So, today, I began jotting down a few words as I was thinking about this past week and, I came up with a short poem. I almost said, “of course” but the words don’t seem to be coming nor the inspiration as easily, so I took out the of course. Here’s the poem:
Sometimes the words will not
come. They are territorial like
distracted lovers and
once they see you holding hands
and being loved
by other words
the ones you’re seeking, they will come.
They will piss on the tree
in your front yard. They will
snatch you back like a toy they once
was disinterested in and yell out
“Mine!”
Words lack a soul.
They just don’t know how to love
you like you want to be loved. So
when they seem to be ignoring you
it’ll always be up to you to seek them out,
to entice affection and attention. But
that’s okay. They’re only words.
They don’t know any better.
So, back to the quote from Louis L’Amour. Since my inspiration is not at optimal level today, I came up with a way to turn on the faucet. I’m going to write, first, from a prompt I discovered yesterday. Here’s the prompt: “You start training to run a marathon. Things are going well and you’ve developed a route that you like to run. One day you notice someone peeking out the window of one of the houses as you pass, though you think nothing of it. But then the next day the peeper is back again. And the next day. Finally you decide to confront the peeper and knock on the door. But when the door opens, you are shocked to find out it’s someone from your past — who you thought was dead.
More prompts can be found here.
Peace & Love,
Rosalind
