I’ve always thought that writing required a deeper understanding of the surface reality. Seeing possibilities in the most improbable opportunities, and trying to stay grounded in the meeting when my mind wants to add more drama to the blasé daily activities of whichever character is tripping in my mind.
I can’t imagine living without the daily chaos that is my life. I both love it and hate it, giving the ever fighting duality of my mixed emotions. The only thing I am sure on a day to day basis is that life has to continue down the sometimes rocky road of adventure.
How does anyone do it? How do you carve a niche (or more like a gaping hole) in your life to write? The dishes always need to be done, the laundry breeds when you blink, and three children under the age of 12 are like swirling dust devils that sprout a mess where it was once clean.
My world is a full world, but I also need to keep a hold of me. The writer in me needs to express thoughts in order not to drown in the voices, but I will take that ten times over the silence that sometimes suffocates. Words are my passion, and writing helps facilitate my addiction. And face it writers of the internet, writing is an addiction.