My fingers have been lazy lately. The last post is from December. I could think of many excuses for my lack of words, but, similar to the lack of exercise in my life, the reality is, I’ve just been lazy.
There probably have been hundreds of ideas, seeds for stories, that have floated in and out of my head over the past few months, but life has gotten in the way and I haven’t had the discipline to sit down and write. All that changes today as I take part in the March Daily Slice of Life Writing Challenge. Yes, for thirty-one days I will post! The thought of not missing a day is ominous, but if you don’t take a challenge that seems difficult, why even dare yourself?
So today, as I begin the journey, I can’t help but think of my friend Elise. She’s definitely one of my oldest friends – and by oldest, I mean the one I’ve known the longest – she’s actually only a few months older than me. We met in the fifth or sixth grade and a love of new wave pop brought us (and still keeps us) together. I vividly remember sitting in her bedroom as she blasted the Go-Gos Head Over Heels over and over to my giddy delight. She had a CD player and an over the top stereo system she’d inherited from her father and various older siblings – the room literally shook and I was in heaven.
Of all the things I admired about Elise, besides her Duran Duran and Wham! CDs was her gift of the written word. Elise was (and still is) an amazing writer and the only thing more impressive than her writing was her willingness to share it with the world. Short stories, poems, even her letters were things of beauty and always offered a glimmer into the deepest part of her soul – she was clearly sharing a piece of herself and I always envied her ability to do so.
As an adult, when I began to explore writing, Elise was one of my first cheerleaders, championing my efforts and eventually, helping me edit my stories for publication. Collaborating on the editing process with her, reviewing every comment, suggestion, and grammar or punctuation correction, I knew Elise had my back. It was almost like sitting in her room together blasting Head Over Heels. The room wasn’t shaking, but I still felt my friend beside me.
Often, I feel like my muse has abandoned me. Without the spark of inspiration, my fingers cramp up and the words don’t flow – but I need to remember, my muse isn’t singular, but many, and they surround me with support, inspiration, and love. Recently, I found a Duran Duran notebook and knew it was the universes way of telling me to get back to writing. I bought it knowing Elise was there with me in spirit. I’ve started a few short story ideas in already, knowing she’s secretly wishing she had a journal like this to write in herself. Thank you, Elise for being one of my first muses and here’s to a life-long friendship and a month of writing.