I hold my breath when I write. I hold my breath through a sentence or a paragraph. I exhale when it’s safely on paper.
I wrote this week. I had thoughts on my writing this week.
A lot of what my book seems to want to be about is finding your voice in dark times.
The events of this past week — shootings and letter bombs and unimaginable sorrows and increasingly dark times for the most vulnerable among us — provide too much real fodder for the work.
There are many feelings now — anger, dismay, fear. These feelings are a constant for some of us, stoked by the occasional (or not-so-occasional) event that for most people are just sad news stories.
I’m just sitting with that today until I exhale.
Reblogged this on Pickadilly Project.
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