During this balmy summer, with thunderstorms aplenty, I am unexpectedly gifted days here and there in which to write peacefully. There is always more writing of the radio play to set down, and so, I press on, feeling that I am up against a deadline, which suggests I want to get the structure and main plot lines in place by the end of August. (I wonder how much of my current word count consists of story, and how much is mere direction and instruction.)
In small ways, I continually prevaricate, not because there is nothing to write, but because the medium of the spoken word takes me back to times, places and events I can hardly have anticipated, re-awakening feelings of surprise, and vulnerability. I prevaricate because it is difficult to bring myself to explore intimate weaknesses, not merely because it is a technical challenge.
There is unexpected joy here too, though, which keeps me focussed and determined. I mine my memories and they reward me with long-forgotten reminiscence. Other writers in this genre must surely find that while writing, nudges from the past feel the relief of being expressed, again. It interests and delights me to see how the process flows.
Despite the holidays, and the countless other things I could be doing, this current project seems to claim my attention, and so this is what I focus on. The focus comes in fits and starts, but slowly, we fill the lines with meaning.
Thanks for reading.