I just read an article by Emma Darwin entitled the contemplative wolf which forced me to break away from my latest project of love which is my new online flash fiction site.
The target I set myself, three weeks ago, was to write a new flash fiction or short story each day for five days a week.
Each night, I read my pocket diary of story ideas so that, when I wake up in the early hours of the morning worrying whether I’ll make it up the creative writing tree for another day, I will have something to mull over.
Every morning, when I wake, after tossing and turning for much of the night, I keep my eyes closed going through my story options for the day, no matter whatever else is going on around me.
Sometimes the short story, flash fiction, or whatever comes refined after days of mulling over. Sometimes, it comes like a shaft of light shining into my soul.
Then, over breakfast, I’m pounding my laptop keyboard in the kitchen hoping I can get the words down before they disappear like the mists that drift across Exmoor each morning.
Finally, I can write ‘The End’.
I read it over aloud. I rewrite words and phrases. I put it away for several hours. Sometimes, I even get dressed before midday. Then I start putting it up on-line which gives me the chance to read it over again and still make some changes.
It’s the next moment that Emma Darwin describes so well.
The story somehow is suddenly born. It exists. It’s as good as I can get it - for now anyway - and to my best ability, it’s good enough.
I smile, leap of my chair and punch the air! Wow! (I really do).
In that moment it is crystal clear to me why I write, why I can’t stop and why I have set myself the task of writing a new story a day for as long as I can.
Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s hard work. Yes, it takes enormous effort. Yes I don’t know whether I will be able to do it again tomorrow.
But it feels so fantastic and I reckon Emma Darwin has described this feeling perfectly.
If you want to know why writing is worth the effort and how it feels, check her article out.
Bye for now
Rob Hopcott