It's Saturday, which means I met with my writing buddies, Rebecca and Lisa. We're all working on fiction, and we find that meeting together every week for critique helps keep us motivated.
But aren't our stories enough in themselves to keep us motivated?
Speaking for myself, yes and no.
Yes, I'll wake up in the middle of the night with an idea for a scene, and in the uncritical glow of the darkness, that idea feels whole, immediate, and possible.
No, because in the light of day I begin to struggle with myself and think maybe the idea is no good; maybe it belongs only to the realm of fleeting delusions.
But knowing Rebecca and Lisa will be waiting for pages helps me write the scene anyway--and the next one and the one after. If I were to bring only a few paragraphs, my buddies would lift their eyebrows in stern compassion. "What's up with you?" they would ask.
And I would do the same for them.
doubt and fear, the twins--
for the creative writer
Now that's poetry. :) Five, seven, five.
Thank you, Rebecca and Lisa. Without you, I would write with the speed of a slug who hasn't yet found the strawberry patch.