Another 45 minutes until I can officially call it the weekend and get to work on my writing. I have ideas swirling around in my head like mad. There is pounding and screaming and whooping and hollering that falls somewhere between a horror movie and a rowdy schoolhouse. These ideas want to escape through my fingertips onto the document on my screen. All I can do is talk softly to them, and assure them that they will reach paper eventually.
With no intent to sound arrogant, I wonder if any other writers have that moment when you are writing a story, and you begin to delve into the scene, and before you know it – there are words on the paper that are pure, absolute genius. At that point, you find that you have no choice but to sit back and marvel at what you have just written. After which, you simply have to read it over again and again. And then one more time just for good measure.
I like this feeling.
This is especially true when I have written a particularly humorous scene, and the joke is so funny that it makes me laugh out loud. I have a specific part in one of my books that has that same effect on me every time that I read it. It sounds completely narcissistic, but sometimes there is a scene or a phrase that is so delicately worded that I cannot help but admire what I have done. It is in those moments that I feel like a “real” writer, although I have never published anything. I imagine that Pinocchio had similar feelings of being a “real” boy, although he was still made of wood.
If you can also relate with that little puppet, then don’t worry, Pinocchio. Someday, our dreams will come true.
Have a good weekend, readers!