A Quiet Place

Is there a quiet place in your life?I am having work done on the kitchen wall. It involved removing an old odd wall and studding and putting up dry wall, plastering and sanding. Four days and counting. Okay, so they were partial days except for the first one, but were the four days I had cleared the calendar to write and finish projects.When I got the call that the carpenter had a cancellation and could begin work several weeks early, I was at once happy and disturbed.

I have lung problems and there would be dust. Lots of dust. I would have to be the person here, because my husband would be at work.And, darn it, I wanted to write.I decided that this might be a test from the universe ( bear with me here) about my commitment to writing. Whether it is or not, I found out this;I am committed. I got a lot more done than I expected.

I was so excited that the work was going on on the level below me that I focused more on my writing.I found that I felt like someone was looking over my shoulder, of course it was me, and I wanted to please myself for a change by doing what I love, writing.I wasn't answering to anyone for these few days, because I had to be at the house; no quick trips to help friends or long chats on the phone. I was in a room that had no phone and I kept the cordless downstairs and turned off. Plus it was too noisy to talk on teh phone, but not too noisy to write!

Another discovery is that I don't have to run to a cabin in the moountains to find solitude, at least not if I am willing to put up with the sounds of construction. Once I started story-telling, the writing flowed and my brain shut out all of the extraneous sounds. I had scheduled this time to write knowing my honey would interrupt me and that life would pull me out of my zone from time to time.Instead, my honey went bowling or riding or what ever, because he couldn't help with the kitchen, and there was no room for him to sit in my little nook.

I was in a comfortable chair being stored in an unused bedroom and had a window for good light and a sense of hiding out in a tree house! The room is in the upper level of our home. It is cluttered and looks like my attic would look if I had one.The most powerful discovery was that I could pull away from family and friends without them being angry and with me feeling relief instead of guilt for not doing the important things first.

I couldn't work in the kitchen so we ate take out. I might not have done that if the work wasn't being done.I didn't have to do dishes, grocery shopping, laundry or cleaning, because, well, I couldn't.WHAT AN AWESOME FEELING!

I think I have learned from this experience to give myself the gift of several days vacation at home. It is okay to have take out four days in a row. It is okay to be the guest in my own home and let others do what they think is important. It is okay to be out of reach of friends and family, and it is oaky if they don't understand. Who ever said you have to be understood all the time.I have freed my inner woman of mystery. I don't have to explain to anyone when I need time away from the ordinary. It is okay to feed my soul and let someone else feed my body.And it is not just okay but necessary to find solitude where ever you are.

hugs, kathi h

this and that

I have been immersed in one of the stories I am writng and thought I would blog about my odd process for this one.

The working title of this is named for the famous song. Sexual Healing. Great song.

It is a contemporary gothic erotic romance set in the mountains of Colorado.

I first had the idea as a result of a nightmare. I dreamed I was in a house that was part of a mountain, and I couldn't get out. It was one of those dreams where you are sure you have been there before and think you know where you are going but never get there, and stairways and elevators and all kinds of strange pathways are endless.

So, I awakened from this dream and got a glass of water to ground me in reality and thought that it would make an interesting movie of only there was a plot and a very rich mysterious guy in it.

I was reading a book and my thoughts kept drifting away from the story in front of me and suddenly I knew this entire story and all of its twists and turns.
Just like that. No outline, no plotting nothing. There it was.

I wanted to start writing it immediately but I had a couple requested stories I was working on and tried to push it to the back of my mind. I didn't even do computer notes on it as I usually do when an idea grabs me.

I knew it was going to be very hot and I didn't have a clue who might want to publish it.
Time passes. A lot of time. Several years.
I was at a mini conference near me last fall, and low and behold there was an editor there taking pitches for erotic romance. I told her I had no business pitching because it might be a year or two before I had time to write it, but she wanted it. the whole thing, not just a few chapters and outline and I could take my time and do it right.

Of course I returned to working on the very good stories already in the works, but kept thinking about S.H.

One day a few weeks ago I decided I had to let myself jot down some impressions or something so I could let go of it until its turn came. Instead I wrote the first 9000 words in one evening. Good words.

Now it is about 20% or more finished. I find I am editing as I go; another thing I seldom do.

So if you are a reader, what do you think? and if you are a writer, does this happen to you?

regards
kathi