Life.
What a funny thing. And by funny I mean the mix of frustrating, painful, happy, confused, joy that is day to day existence.
Nobody has it figured out as much as they might lead you to believe they do.
Things rarely turn out the way you think they will.
That’s just the truth.
But that’s why I love life. Not knowing what’s ahead keeps things interesting. Not knowing if things will turn out like you think they will doesn’t mean they will end badly. They could end better, after all. So the brave folks of the world step out and take action. They live and see what happens.
The parallels between life and writing are glaring, at least to me.
When I start writing a story for the book I’m working on, I never know how I’m going to wrap it up. It starts with no end in sight. No point where everything becomes cohesive and the reader gets it.
But that point comes. Gradually it makes itself known.
The key is to start writing. Words assemble, thoughts collide and then that moment comes, that moment I live for (and every creative does), where YOU get it. And you think the reader will too. You’re proud. You’ve got it all figured out.
But you can’t stop there. There are more stories to be written and you’re back to not knowing again. But you start again, and you figure it out again. And again. And again.
So goes life and writing.