The creative process is like taking part in a miracle. Yes, you are doing the typing, you are thinking, plotting—or at least recognizing good story material when you see it--but it seems as though something beyond you is directing the process.
I experienced it writing songs--where I could just hear the words to the song as I strummed the guitar chords, as though someone was already singing them, and I, only listening in.
With jewelry I'd wake in the morning with an entire (FIMO) necklace laid out in the air in front of me; I would be left to peer at it to see how it was constructed.
And with writing, I may wake at 4 am with the words bursting to get out on the page while I obediently drag myself up, still in my pajamas.
Or sitting at my computer on other business, I feel in my lower body the pressure to go to WORD and start writing.
And then to have people pop into the writing--the words of a conversation I could hardly remember in my day-to-day left brain, the gesture of a person I’ve otherwise forgotten. These details seem to come up in action between my characters more-or-less by themselves.
The subtle way a cup is lifted, the cocky interaction of two dogs on the street, the particular way the lake looks that day--things I see in the daytime reemerge at night as I’m writing.
It’s truly magic.
I'd like to be writing all the time. But it has its own rhythm.
Now I'm waiting for the next bolt of lightning to strike.
