It’s winter. Or at least the slow move to Spring, which means there’s more time inside. Inside the home, coffee shops, hideaways- whatever.
Wherever it is. It’s a place to take your words and devices and write the thing that’s been ruminating for a day or a while. And this is the time; there really is no other to start.
It’s not too late. Being January 10th, 2018, doesn’t mean you’ve missed a grand, explosive start. So long as there is air in your lungs, just get on with it. You already know what ‘it’ is and you already know that you’re the only one who can bring it forth.
Winter is the Mother’s gift to us. It gives us time, stillness, coziness and lots of tea to write until our fingers cramp.
So here’s to you and all you’re going to do.
Also, if it all dries up and goes barren don’t try and purge yourself and punish yourself with condemnation; being a writer is hard. It’s bloody easy because you love words, but the craft, the balance, the discipline: is excruciating. So be kind, and just enjoy wherever you are in the process.
I’ll be with you the whole way.