Lost Words
There are days when I want to write, but the ideas and words have walked away from my brain.
There are days when I want to write, but the ideas and words have walked away from my brain.
It’s one of those days when I wonder about my life purpose, role on this planet, and life itself. I have always thought of people (and I should probably include other organisms in this thought) as being in small bubbles. My theory is that we bump, merge, and break apart in freedom to float through our lives. I
“Her soul belongs to words and books. Every time she reads, she is home.” -Anonymous.
I should tweak this statement to read, “Her soul belongs to words and books. Every time she writes, she is home.”
They say there are plotters and pantsers when it comes to writing. The plotters outline the book carefully and have the novel in place before writing. Pantsers just let the writing flow. I can honestly say that I am betwixt and between the two.
Words astound me. Books leave me in awe. How is it possible to continue to have wonderful stories written using the words, the very same words, that have existed for thousands of years?