Worth Waiting For

. It starts with a sort of peculiar looseness, a sort of lightness, across my chest and shoulders. My hands become restless, tighten and grasp, then shake loose again.

My dreams become more vivid, and when I’m awake, I become more absent. I slip into a dream world more easily, when walking, when watching TV, even when working. Characters and scenes and dialogues slip into my mind for brief moments, before slipping away again, still unfinished, still unclear, still only hints of what they will become.

My energy levels rise. I can’t get enough physical exercise. I crave workouts at the gym, and yet still, after a full hour’s workout, and an intensive dance class, I need to run to wear myself out enough to sit still.

By now, I know what’s coming. Time to sharpen the pencils, stock up paper, make sure all writing supplies are in easy reach.

This is when it could all slip away, just at the slightest wrong touch. A constant chill in the air, no break from the rain, an upsetting day, a bad cold, and it’ll all slip away.

This all takes about a week. If it all goes right, though, my hands will tingle, and I’ll start to breath a bit faster. My eyes will glisten, and I will need to find space, and time, and quiet. And then, then I’ll feel it running through me, a unique electricity. What was vague and nebulous starts to firm up, become clear and strong. I pick up the pencil, and smile, knowing what’s about to come. And then there it is.

That first line.

The very perfect beginning.

The start to a whole new story.

The right collection of words to pull me in, catch me, and keep me.

It’s worth the wait.


2 responses to “Worth Waiting For

  1. Wow Michelle, that’s amazing. Having you thought of making a video diary when this is going on? Or do you think that would be too distracting? It sounds like something that would be very interesting to watch unfold. Narelle

  2. That first line for a good story is always worth the wait.

    Usually for me it only hits when a story comes knocking at the back door asking to come in. When it’s forced, nothing good comes.

    When it isn’t, it is simply breathtaking.

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