Dreaming of a Write Christmas

Outside my window the snow is gently falling, the flakes like tiny bits of silver crystal. Silently and steadily it has snowed all day. The trees are gracefully laden with it. The woods are silent, hushed in snowy shades of deep grays and soft whites. I took walk through the woods and down to the mailbox in the late afternoon, making tracks in the powdery landscape. But I wasn’t the first to pass that way. There was evidence of others: footprints of a snowshoe hare and something larger, a fox or coyote. By the time I reached home again, my hat and shoulders were topped with snow and my cheeks rosy with the chill. I love a white Christmas.

This year, what I’d love even more is a write Christmas. It’s been a good long stretch between productive writing stints. There’s no one to blame for that except myself. It’s been a year in the writing wilderness for me, a time of wandering through my work-in-progress and to a greater extent, wandering through my intentions as a writer. What exactly do I want from this?

Then, just the other day, I came upon something in my reading that triggered a response in me, something immediate and solid that I could grab like a life preserver on a wave-tossed sea. The thought stuck with me and later that day, as I sat in a bookstore coffee shop sipping a hot drink, inspiration struck. I dug through my purse for a scrap of paper and wrote down my sudden insight. It’s scribbled on the back of a receipt - three acts, the main plot points, and the full story arc for REQUIEM.

So I may get my wish this Christmas. I’m inspired and eager to write again now that I've found a path out of the wilderness.

My wish for all of you this holiday season is that you also have a very write Christmas. May the words fall gently, may they laden your story like snow on graceful boughs, may you see the tracks of those who accompany you - fellow writers, crit partners, beta readers, and loved ones who support your desire to write.

Happy Holidays, everyone.