I have a book to write. My 57th book, to be specific. It’s one that has been marinating in my mind for a long time, one I’m absolutely in love with and can’t wait to get down on paper. I’ve done tons of research on the setting and time period. (Correction – settings and time periods – it’s a split time novel.) The characters are alive and living in my brain, and a couple of them are absolutely screaming at me to, “GET BUSY AND WRITE MY STORY!”

But Life sometimes gets in the way of creative passion, you know? The farm needs attention. The chickens need tending. Family members have situations that I need (and want) to help with. Mostly, other obligations take up waaaaay more time than I anticipated they would. (I have a serious problem saying the word “No.”)

So, what happens when a writer doesn’t write? I’ll tell you. The stories don’t disappear. They turn inward, smoldering in a writer’s mind. If the story is ignored long enough, it begins to take a mental toll. The character’s voices get quieter and quieter. The writer becomes restless. Irritable. Anxious. Emotional. Melancholy. Eventually frightening questions begin to plague the writer. “Can I still write? Have I lost the ability? What if this story that I love becomes stagnant? Or worse, what if I forget how to craft the story? What if I’ve lost the ability, the skill, to tell the story the way it deserves to be told? If that happens I might as well give up altogether. If I can’t write anymore, what will I do? If I’m not a writer then… Who. Am. I?”

Um…you know what? I think I’ll end this short blog post and go WRITE SOMETHING BIG. Like a novel!