…can lead you into the world you didn’t realize lived in you.
It’s Covid-19 living and I’ve been struggling to get back to words and the worlds I’ve created since the cancer. My concentration hasn’t been the greatest and, to be even more honest, my motivation hasn’t been here. Slowly, I’ve reconnected, my Facebook pages and quick posts prove that. But, to say I’ve written anything creative fictionally, even non-fictionally, well, this blog posting is my first in, yeah, we won’t look at dates.
Today I was prompted by the little steps I’ve been taking over the last two months. I’ve promised myself to re-appear, restart, continue where I left off, all those words we tell ourselves in the hope of moving our butts and minds. Time makes this work and today time decided to knock.
I picked up my notebook, the one in which I write either my dreams of the night before, or titles of non-existent books/stories and even opening lines. Words I have no intention of following through with…yet, if ever.
Today, one of those simple titles went from one thought to another and then a flash fiction paragraph. Will I do anything more with it? I don’t know. It has a noir, fifties feel to it. At least the main character’s voice sounds like that, someone who would be wearing a fedora, smoking, sitting in the grey shadows of a black and white setting.
Just what I need, another story to add to all the others I have on back burners.
I won’t knock this, too much, at least my imagination, my creative self has reminded me it’s still here waiting for me to wake up.