17 March 2015

Doors, and how they sometimes open before you knock...


December 31st was my last post.
And thank goodness it didn't have a shopping list of resolutions I know I wouldn't have been able to keep. As strange as it may sound, since that date I have done so much yet nothing.

A new job in a different industry kept me busy, and after being self-employed for many years it was a huge change. As a result, time usually spent writing was now needed to recover from the rat race.

But, like a true writer, I observed character traits and managed to outline two book ideas from the people I met. Some hilarious, some like sheep following a lost shepherd, and others ending up on a hit list that will definitely be offed before the end of the story.

Yet, I haven't written much.

Wandering in a literary desert gave me time to reflect on my writing and where I want it to go.

Writing has always been an escape for me, a way to rationalise the world outside and the question of where I am going in life. Last year I lost, and then I found: myself, love, and happiness. For those that have been following me on twitter and other social media, you would have noticed my desire to make a difference especially relating to conservation. So even though I felt that a door had closed as far as my ability to write and create awareness, another opened unexpectedly.

A simple gesture to turn what would have been a normal Valentine's Day into something a bit more special for an incredible person, ended up as a huge change in my life. Not only did I get to meet Dr Jane Goodall, I also met an anti-rhino-poaching activist. He is the founder of an organisation trying to combat this brutal act, and is actively involved by being on the front line where the action happens. I am also excited that he has agreed to take time out of his busy schedule to do an interview, which I will post on my blog soon.

 A door opened…

On a personal note, I haven't seen my princes in months. Communication has dried up, and due to the physical distance apart, there isn't much I can do. They are my life and it is a hard blow. This is probably the biggest anchor weighing down my ship of creativity. The wind is there, the sails are open, but I'm stuck on the same spot. Chatting to a close family member, I realised that I (like so many others) was not alone. She doesn't have children, but is in a situation similar to mine as far as a creative dry spell. We spoke for hours, and when we agreed on certain topics I realised what I had to do.

My boys inherited my imagination. When we were still together and they thought I was the closest thing to Mr Incredible because I always told them the coolest stories, we decided to write a book together. Unfortunately life happened and the idea faded like morning mist. But another door opened in the hallway of my mind that led to a new world. The following evening I called my cousin back. She was surprised that we hadn't spoken for a while and then suddenly two nights in a row, so I explained my idea. To bring my boys back into my life, I had to finish the story we never started. She loved it, and being a children's book illustrator, excitedly said: "I'm in!"

A door opened...

So what has all of this got to do with anything?

Well, too often in life we stand in front of a door without knowing what is on the other side. We knock and dream of what it will reveal, the amazing treasures to be found...while others are wide open. Do we complicate our own lives and writing with tunnel vision, focussing only on what should be in our path and ignoring what could be if we stopped to look around? Nothing is cast in stone.


Now to find the bloody door my characters are hiding behind…