Wednesday, 23 April 2008

A Homeless Scene

I woke up bright and early full of plans for the day, every minute mapped out. Stretching, I pulled the quilts closer around my shoulders, knowing there were still a few minutes before I had to get moving. As I tried to convince myself to get up a little earlier than usual, I had one of those moments I love.

A scene began to run through my head. I rarely see the pictures, but the ideas begin to flow and arrange themselves into beautiful sentences. I let the moment play out for awhile, immersing myself in the emotions of the character. I've learned I can't write it down too soon, I have to let the whole thing run out in my head. But as soon as the words stopped, I grabbed the pen and pad of paper I keep next to the bed and scribbled them as fast as I could. But this time when I went back to read it, I was a little confused.

The sentences are strong, the emotions riveting, but it is such a departure from anything I've ever written before, and I don't quite know where to put it. It's just a scene, and the accompanying story still eludes me. There are glimmers of an idea forming in my head, but meanwhile, the words sit in my notebook, hoping I'll find a home for them.


Stacy G. Anderson said...

The words will find a home, they always do.

Some of the most pleasant surprises are those moments when 'home' ends up being where you thought it wasn't but ended up being where it needs to be.

That truly is the magic of story weaving....

Annette Lyon said...

Ooh! I love it when that happens. I'm sure the scene will expand and show you the full story. Hope you write it--and that we get to read it in print some day.

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