Writer Off Watch

Okay, I’ll admit it: I haven’t been writing.

Well, that’s not quite true. I’ve been writing blog posts and articles and book reviews and songs. I’ve been busy. But I haven’t been doing any work on a project that could be considered “major.” No new novel… not even a short story. No scribbling on the backs of business cards: a scrap of dialogue, a scene, the type of boat a character loves best.

So what have I been doing, then? Working, and sailing of course. Traveling a bit. Gardening… the bed in front of our house looks much better than a few weeks ago. Hanging out with friends. In short, living a normal life. And that’s fine.

But I miss my silent imaginary friends, those voices in my head that jump into the middle of my life and interrupt whatever I’m doing. I miss following the pull of a story, miss documenting the lives of Oliver and Grampa and Cap’n Eli, of Casey and Spencer, of Crazy Aunt Eliza. I mean, where did Eliza go once she disappeared from “normal” life and headed off on boats? Will she ever resurface? And why isn’t she talking to me?

On a good day, these characters are more real to me than many of the people I run into downtown. After all, I know a lot more about what really makes them tick. They can’t fool me with their socially acceptable facades of good humor; I know them too well.

Come back, Eliza and Oliver. Come back, Declan Malloy—who, I recently realized, owns a small Beetle cat. Come back and tell me a story. Because life, wonderful and busy as it is, is just not as rich without your voices in my head.