Now I Remember....

...why I'm a writer.

Epiphanies are far and few between. As any serious writer knows, writing is hard work. It is more mental sweat than anything else. Writing takes focus and demands sacrifices both on the home and creative fronts. Our books are filled with dead ends and useless characters. We unwittingly write laughable dialogue only to go back and edit, scratching our heads and wondering what the hell we were thinking. There are some days we stare at the computer screen, lucky if we are able to punch out four or five words. Some writers are more disciplined and manage to get the word count out, knowing in the end most of those words will end up deleted. Often we open up those files, read through our writing and think there is no way we can get this mess cleaned up. Or we read and think how good it is but worry we are the only ones who think so.

Lets face it, there are many times when we can't remember why we are writers. Sometimes there is little joy in the process. We slog through hoping to catch the fire. Too often we fear the passion we once felt is gone for good. I can honestly say I have felt this way more often than not in the last ten years of writing. Not that I haven't gotten things done. I've produced some good stuff even though it has been a struggle. But in the back the back of my mind I am battling the demons of self-doubt. I constantly question if what I'm writing will sell. I am not writing for the pleasure it brings me. And I miss that feeling.

But last week the most amazing thing happened. A story popped in my head and I started writing. It was so exciting. The flow of words was (and is) unstoppable. And the best part is I'm not worried about whether it will sell. I don't care right now, I only care about the story. My happiness is wrapped up in the feeling of writing. I love it again. I find myself constantly thinking about the book but not with trepidation. I'm only concerned with how I feel about it. I'm in love with the process once more. I'm enchanted with the words I'm writing. I wish I could bottle this feeling. I could sell it on ebay and make a mint.

Anyway, I guess the moral of the story is to keep plugging along. Have faith that the writer in you will emerge again and remind you why you do what you do.