The highlight of my summer season so far has been the long twilight. The days might be feisty and unrelenting, but then twilight eases in, echoing with childhood summers in which dusk marked the coda to days of running, throwing balls, imagining, exploring woods, frolicking with neighborhood kids; high school beach bonfires, riding my bike home after solo expeditions with a stack of library books bungee-corded to the back. Twilight, when the world is at its sweetest and most dignified. Voices soften, buildings and trees stand taller, dreams begin to stir, and monsters remain in hiding.
This post is in response to today’s writing prompt: If it’s autumn or winter where you live, what are you most looking forward to doing next summer? If it’s spring or summer where you are, what has been the highlight of the season so far for you?
But if I did, then she just said to me (from the comfort of her peace-sign-patterned loveseat), “Gravity doesn’t exist in my world. I can rise as high as I need to, so get out from under those ceilings so we can soar.”
I’d be really curious to learn what stirs your imagination and creative spirit. If it’s music, do you usually listen to the same music, or does the music vary depending on what you’re creating? Reading great literature? Exercise — rigorous workouts or leisurely strolls? Habit, as in writing at the same time every day or in a particular environment? Meditation? Random things?
Lately, my writing has been hindered by an insane workload in my job as a teacher. To complicate matters, a couple of days ago my YA fantasy adventure seemed to morph from a comforting creature into a monstrous vermin. With 286 pages written and the second draft halfway done, I stepped back from it in horror. I have so many ideas that it’s hard to remember to keep things simple, and I’m afraid of not being able to bring it all together. But the answer is, and has always been…
Admittedly not the prettiest word, ‘logophile’ conjures an image (at least in my brain) of a crocodile, on a log, (ph)iling his claws. But seriously, how much can a person love her thesaurus? All 978 book-bound pages of it.