I've spent most of July stepping away: away from the novel I was working on, away from working on my short stories, away from my poetry, away from this blog, and away from writing every day. I had become involved in far too many different ventures. I, like most people, needed to re-assess where I was going - what my goals actually included.
The lack of rain has made me glad that I planted my veggies and herbs in pots in the front of my house. With minimal watering they are producing tasty additions to my recipes. The actual vegetable garden space has run amok with thistles and other weeds.
This is a lot like my mind and my writing: my mind has run amok with ideas and tasks and garbage. I've started to take out the mental garbage by jotting even the junk down or recording it. By doing this, I'm getting it off my mind. Releasing it; therefore, allowing space to think.
I have now revisited the first chapters of the novel I have been working on. The one where the protagonist's husband angers and upsets me. It seems that because I stepped away from the story, I seem to better understand the story I'm trying to share, his role, and where the story heads.
Now it is time to get to work.
