Monday, November 16, 2015

Overcome with Good

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. 




 
Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. 
(Romans 12) 


Friday, November 6, 2015

When the well runs dry



When the well runs dry . . .
Cliché? You bet. It’s also been a long time since I’ve blogged. I've broken the number one cardinal rule of the entire blogosphere. Maybe, just maybe, the cliché has some bearing on the prolonged silence.

I’m sitting at the computer now, though, staring at the monitor and struggling to somehow frame this blog while my mind wanders ethereal paths. A handmade wooden desk clock, an old, sentimental gift from my then twelve year-old son, says 10:30 p.m.. I’ve put in a long day, starting at 5:30 this morning. The house is dark except for the light above me, silent except for softly clicking keys. In a tad more than 6 hours my alarm will blare that annoying perky tune. I should be in bed with my sleeping wife, but here I am staring at the computer, trying to frame a mess of jumbled thoughts, always stressing about the novel I haven’t touched in months. How does it come to this?

I’ll add another cliché here – life happens. Family and friends happen. Work happens. When a load of stuff hits you in the face simultaneously, writing suffers. Or am I just making excuses? 

Probably.

Maybe the dream has dimmed. No, I know the dream has dimmed. It’s so damn hard to literally pour your heart and soul (another cliché!) into a story that very few will want to read. Forget all the accolades that I receive from fellow authors I know regionally. Why agonize and bleed over every word in a story? As a long-time acquaintance told me once, “I saw your Facebook posts about the release of your novel. I’m not going to buy it.” Gee, thanks for your support!

I guess that’s why I’ve stared at the same paragraph in my current writing project for more than two months, reluctant or maybe too fearful to dive back in.

You know something, though. I’m a stubborn Italian and a small ember still burns in my gut. The dream isn’t dead. Maybe it’s just covered with a blanket at the moment. A still, small voice deep inside encourages me even as I wrestle with it. I can tell you this. I’m taking part in a project for 2016 that I’m pretty excited about. More information is coming within the next few weeks. The dream will always burn inside. I'll continue to follow it through the peaks and valleys, wherever it leads.

I’m going to bed now. I have to get up for work in less than 5 hours . . .