Sunshine streams in the window. Spring flowers beckon me to walk outdoors, potter in the garden, or, perhaps, sit out and read.
And yet, I find myself rummaging away in my little study, throwing away old papers, resorting books in different orders, dusting, dusting, dusting, and creating an open, empty shelf ...
... for new projects ...
A couple of days ago, my latest book arrived in the mail. This morning I arose very early, and in the still of the dawn hours, I leafed through the book, reading my introductory chapter, and wandering through the generous contributions by so many excellent early childhood scholars. As I turned the pages and turned the book over in my hands, a sigh escaped through my lips.
I sensed a feeling of satisfaction and pleasure in the completion of a project.
Before long, I found myself scurrying around my study, throwing away, and straightening up this and that. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was preparing my space for two new projects that have been on my mind this past year or two:
A book for parents, and a memoir. Indeed, I have the beginnings of their titles swirling around my brain for some time now. Lately, excitement has been growing. For I am itching to write. Not in my blog or on the Facebook page. No way. In fact I am yearning to wake up early and write pages for whatever project comes up first. Both represent something I want to do for me. Not for work or my profession. Not because I must.
Just because ...
... I want to ...
Good for you. I'm sure many writers wish they had your enthusiam and excitment about their writing projects.
Posted by: Linda Hillin | March 31, 2010 at 06:01 PM