Digging up the Past

I save every idea. I write down everything can about the concept, create a file, and then add it to my endless list of future projects. Sometimes, I'll outline the book and write a chapter or two if I feel inspired. There have been a couple times when I've written the entire manuscript and shelved it, having lost interest in the characters or the plot. If years later, I can't stop thinking about one of my old ideas, then it must be good enough to pursue. That's my process.

One of my books was ready to query when I set it aside. I'd been through dozens of drafts and few major revisions and felt the book was ready for the world. I'd even paid for professional editing. But I didn't love it. In fact, I was bored with it. For me, I have to be 100% in love with a book for me to keep going. I was maybe 80% in love with this one.

So, when a new book idea came to me, I jumped into that project with both feet and left this one far behind. Then I got into Pitch Wars, then found an agent, then wrote another book, and then started yet another idea. I was so far removed from that dusty old project that I'd forgotten most of the character names and even details of the plot. Poor book.

But now that old book is calling to me. It's haunting my dreams and my thoughts. It's begging me to revisit it once again. That once forgotten project wants me to make it something special, so that's what I'm going to do.

And that's why I'm sharing this. Sometimes, our work isn't the best. Sometimes, our creations don't shine as brightly as other things. That's okay. Because every idea will have it's moment in the spotlight, every passion will gain it's place in your heart. Even if it's not now, even if it's not soon, someday, the good ideas will cling to you and won't let you do anything else.

Happy Writing. And Reading.

 ~ Jamie

A Fantastic Taste of Reality

I’ve been reading the Count of Monte Cristo as of late. I can’t get enough of the story. I love the book, the audio book, and the movie (though it doesn’t follow the book too much.) I love the descriptions Dumas uses and the flowering language that, despite its translation into English, displays the dominant French method of exaggeration. I marvel at the language and smile at places and words representing my beloved France.

This morning, having been thoroughly inspired by thoughts and recollections of last night’s reading, I portrayed a bit of comedy, rousing my coworkers with an old French accent and expressions of that language I don’t use but on rare occasions. I was entertaining myself for the most part, for I detest working on Sundays and when the occasion finds me in this métier, I find every opportunity to make the day feel different.

That said, a coworker later approached me and asked if I would take a call from a dear woman speaking French. I eagerly snatched up the telephone and requested the call. Oh, my folly. No sooner had I spoke, when I found myself conversing with a dear woman who, from her accent, demonstrated the thick tone from a southerner. Meaning, someone from the south of France. I stumbled remarkably in my efforts, proving to this woman and myself that I was not fluent in the slightest degree that I had expected. I apologized to her, for my mind was willing to recall the words in French, but my tongue could not adequately produce the phrases required for smooth communication. Still, we managed the call and I resolved her issue.

Upon ending the call, I was pleased to discover that she was indeed from near Marseilles, the very place where Edmond Dantes began his story in the Count of Monte Cristo. I grinned upon learning this. Yes, I have lost my once exceptional skill in that fantastic language; however, I had an experience that brightened my day. A fantastic taste of the place about where I currently inquire within the pages of a book. And that is a wonderful thing. 

Happy reading.

~Jamie

Dreaming

It's that time of year; the busy, crazy several months that make me collapse onto my bed at the end of the day. I don't get much writing done during these three months. In fact, I don't get much of anything other than life done. That's okay. This is the time when I dream. This is the time when  my stories come alive in my mind while I plot and plan and imagine what could be.

So I'm quiet. And that's okay . . . because I'm dreaming. Talk to you soon.

These Moments pass Swiftly

Before leaving for work this morning, I was telling my wife how much of a difference a few minutes delay can make in my commute. I told her that if I didn’t time my drive right, I would get caught in traffic and add as much as 20 minutes to my travel time. Well, I happened to be leaving a couple minutes later and knew there would be some delay. Then I walked out the front door and saw this:

Sunrise, July 29 2013

 I called my wife over and snapped a couple photos before suddenly, it ended. And that was that.

I think that some of the most spectacular moments in life are like this sunrise. They arrive and pass so swiftly that, most of the time, we miss them. In this crazy fast world of digital real time living, it’s easy to overlook the little miracles that shape most of our existence. I have seen the sunrise most of the days of my life, but I have never seen one like this and I’m not soon to forget this one either.

Happy living.

 ~ Jamie

Something's in the Air

It's Friday afternoon and everything around here is strangely quiet. I don't know what it is, but there's something in the air. It could be the spring snowstorm were having or possibly the calm before an exciting weekend. Whatever it is, it's mysterious and strange. And I like it. I'm going to absorb the moment and wish you all a happy weekend.

~Jamie

Habits and Routine

Recently I reached the planned half-way point in book 4 (tentatively titled In Forgotten Dreams). The chapter was intense and, I must say, an emotional drain on me. Needing a break, I started thinking about my writing. A few questions on my mind were: Is my writing schedule productive? Am I wasting time? What should I be doing different? Am I going too slow?
Over the past few years I've developed a particular writing schedule. For the most part it goes something like this: January - March = write a rough draft. March - August = edit and revise previous works and current work. Brainstorm. Read. September = more brainstorming. More reading. October - December = plotting and outlining future works. Read. Almost every night, once the kids are in bed, I grab my tablet and start working. Usually I get in an hour or two of work, and I never stop until reaching 1,000 words written or a full chapter edited.
Everyone has their own routine and we all work at our own pace. This one has worked for me. It's the habit I've settled in to and I'm comfortable with it.
While pondering the above mentioned questions, I decided to open the file for book 3 (Under Darkened Skies). My planned release is this summer and I wanted to gauge how much work remained. Keep in mind, I completed the rough draft for that book almost a year ago. Since then, I've done two or three draft revisions. The last time I looked at that book was in December. Wow, does it need work! The writing isn't bad, and the story starts off with a bang, but there were obvious needs that stood out in the manuscript. I filled some holes and reworked a couple things in the first two chapters before putting the book away again.
The lesson for me: it appears that my habits and routine work. I strongly believe that had I rushed through the book to get it finished I would have missed the opportunity to make it stronger. Writers always say that it's best to get away and detach from your work, that way you'll return with an objective point of view. They're right. In this digital age it's relatively easy to push out a piece of fiction that meets a word count for a novel without actually giving the work and the author the opportunity to mature. That's too bad.
As I mentioned before, everyone has their own routine and pace. This one works for me; it probably won't work for most. I'm not the type of author who can crank out four books or even a dozen books per year. If you are that type of author, I applaud you. If you're not, I understand.
So Under Darkened Skies is coming. It's maturing and growing stronger. It's on schedule. After that, In Forgotten Dreams will be here. Somewhere along the way, my secret zombie novel will show up. Until then, I'll keep writing and getting better.

Happy reading.

~Jamie

Freaky!

Ever been so wrapped up in a project that it overtakes every part of you? Yeah, me too. The past two nights I've been working on a scene that I first plotted a couple years ago. I had always wanted it to be a little dark, and a lot scary, but had never expected the result. I freaked myself out!
This wasn't an issue of little spine tingles or a feeling of foreboding, this was downright scary for me. I had to stop at one point and ask one of my kids to come sit by me, then when I went to bed I was worried about nightmares. Yeah, I'm a wimp. Thinking about it a couple days later, I probably worked myself up for no reason. I'm sure when I go back and re-read the chapter I'll realize that it's all silly. But still, that was quite an experience.
I'm the type of writer who dives into the emotion of the scenes I write. I want to see what the character sees. I want to feel what the character feels. It's the only way that I think I can effectively transfer the feelings I intend to convey. Hopefully it works.
Sometime down the road while reading one of my books, if you come upon a scene that scares you, know that it scared me too!

Happy Reading.
~Jamie

Odd Things

I'm a writer. I write what's on my mind, when and where it reaches me. Sometimes, that's in the kitchen. Other times, at the park. Often, in the bedroom. Better yet, inspiration finds me while I'm at work. I'm at work right now and the muse is talking, which is a good thing. I work at a place that encourages my creativity.
While I'm sitting at my desk, typing away, I'm noticing how strange a place my office is. There's more here than just a photo of my family, a stapler, and a phone. There's also adventure and mystery. I'm surrounded by hundreds of objects that add life and color to my working environment. Here are a few of those objects I'm looking at:
A telescope.
A pillow with an embroidered dog on it
An empty flask
A Viking hat
A painting of a dragonfly
A leather purse
A diamond ring
A light bulb

Imagine the fantastic stories that one could create using these objects. The possibilities are neverending. I guess that's why my mind is always spinning, because there's always something odd to inspire me.
How about you? What odd things can you see right now?

Fitting In

I’m not a social butterfly. Nope. Never have been. Probably never will be. If there’s an event happening, chances are I’m off in a corner somewhere away from the excitement. I don’t need attention, I don’t want attention, and I certainly don’t go looking for attention. This should not be taken to mean that I don’t like people or I’m anti-social. I’m really quite friendly. I’m also comfortable in my own skin.

When I was in fourth grade, a substitute teacher was giving us a lesson about fitting in. “How many of you would like to be constantly teased?” she asked.

I raised my hand. I had been teased for as long as I could remember. To me, it was part of life. When I grew up, Jamie was not a common name for boys.

The substitute called on me and asked again, “You wouldn’t mind if everyone teased you?”

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t bother me,” I answered.

Trying to prove a point, the teacher told everyone in the class that they could tease me during the next recess. She might have thought I playing the role of the class clown and would back down, or she might have thought I would come sulking back from recess, sorry for my answer. (Of course, in today’s world, she’d be fired for what she did before the school day was done.) Regardless of her reason, she did it. She told the class to tease me during the next recess. They teased as best they could. I was called every name imaginable. I was chased and laughed at and had fingers pointed at me. Guess what? Recess ended, the teasing ended, and life went on. I didn’t cry, or sulk, or write everyone’s name down to seek revenge later in life. I took my lumps and moved on. (One girl tried teasing me after recess and I did get angry then because that wasn’t in the rules the teacher had given.) After that day, I don’t remember being teased again. Ever.

My point to this is that all of us are different for a reason. I think of the human race as a giant puzzle. We’re all pieces of that puzzle: some might have a straight edge or two; others none; while all have unique shapes that vary in subtle ways. We each have varying needs and wants and likes and appearances. And there’s a place for all of us in the puzzle—that’s what fitting in means. Alone, each piece is only part of the big picture, and without every piece, the puzzle isn’t complete.

Being a non-social type of person, I am inspired by stories of those who stand up to bullying and teasing. It’s hard to deal with such abuse and even harder to face it with strength. There’s no place for cruelty toward others in this world, and I believe that those who overcome such things are the champions of humanity.

Sometimes I’m good with words; I don’t think I was today. I just want people to know that humankind is better than those who choose to not let people fit in.

Sunset and Sky

 

Have you ever sat on the edge of a cliff and watched the sunset take over the landscape? That’s how I feel right now. There’s nothing special or magnificent about anything in particular that I want to share, only the love and the peace that I find when exploring my imagination. I think that’s why I enjoy writing. It’s a chance for me to open my mind and let ideas create my vision. There are no rules, no guidelines, and no limits to what can be formed. Find peace in your craft and you’ll never want for ideas again.

Happy dreaming.

~ Jamie



The Little Things Make Me Smile

I love this season. Cold nights sneak through open windows, brilliant leaves color the mountain landscape, and never-ending lines of birds plot courses to warmer places to announce that the world is ready to sleep for a while. It’s been a busy summer; I’ve played hard and have worked hard. I finished one book, wrote another, and sent a third to the editor’s desk. I camped and swam and ate more than my share of picnic lunches. The time has come for new challenges and fresh opportunities. While the nights grow longer and the days wear thin, I wish that this time of year could last forever. I want it to last forever. Another reason: a tiny piece of heaven called candy corn. I love candy corn—almost as much as I love this season. I’m a simple guy with simple tastes, and it’s the little things in life that make me smile. Here’s to a great week and a wonderful season.

~ Jamie

Really?

I’m been fighting this blog post for a couple days now. Usually I try to stay away from controversy and don’t want to make waves, but I’ve had enough. There’s only so much I can take and, frankly, I’m sick of everything that’s going around on the subject. Everywhere I look these days, it seems like there’s an opinion. I can’t even walk down my own driveway without being instantly bombarded with propaganda. Then today at work, I was confronted again—right outside my office. It’s not that I’m afraid of conflict; I just don’t want to take a side. I mean, really? Is it necessary to choose? With all that’s going on in the world today, you would think (well, most people would think) that we could get some peace and rest from it all. Aren’t there more important things? Nooooo! I guess not. So, here’s my take:

Yes, I think those little rollie pollies are cute and fun to play with. J Have a great week everyone.

~ Jamie

(p.s. No rollie pollies were injured during the inspiration of this post. One was rolled down the hall at work, though.)

My Favorite Statue

Those who have been to the Louvre have seen this statue. It’s called Winged Victory of Samothrace, or Nike of Samothrace. I always forget the fancy name at the end and call it Winged Victory.

I saw the statue for the first time in the summer of 1993. I didn’t know anything about it then, but fell in love instantly. It’s displayed right across some steps once you’re in the museum so you can’t miss it. I spent a lot of time at the Louvre while I lived in Paris. I must have gone there two or three times a week. I went early in the morning, the middle of the day, and even late at night. I went when the museum was closed, I snuck into secret underground excavation sections, and I walked around the thing too many times to count. I even have specific memories of the Louvre tied to smell. When I pick up a certain scent, I’m reminded of the metro station right at the castle. I can’t describe the scent; I just know it when I smell it. There are a lot of things I love about the Louvre, but this statue is my favorite. I love how it tells a story. I love how it’s imperfect. I love that it has survived 2,200 years.

There aren’t any words of advice or deep meaning in today’s post. I just wanted to share something that I love and hope you’ll find inspiration from it, too.

 ~ Jamie

Blue Jays, Canoes, and a Squirrel

I spent the last couple days camping deep in the middle of bear country. It’s always refreshing to get away, especially when away means no cell phone service. I was able to leave the world we live in and escape into a place where the loudest sound was river water over stones and the brightest lights at night were the stars.

This trip also provided great writing research in a few ways. First, I went canoeing. The last time I rode in a canoe was during the great river adventure that inspired me to write—over twenty years ago. I was on a lake this time, so the feeling was different than the rushing chaos of a river run, but I loved how the memories came flooding back. I was surprised at how cold the water was. I had forgotten. Thinking back to that great adventure, it’s more incredible to me that everything turned out okay then. There are pieces from that adventure that have made it into my series. Watch for some great river adventures in book three!

Second, I came face to face with a beautiful doe near our camp. She was huge, standing as tall as me. We stared at each other and then she strolled into the trees, having determined that I wasn’t a threat. Her face was so calm, so accepting of my presence. It’s rare to have a moment like that in the wild, so I’ll always remember it. There’s a scene in FROM RISING FLAMES with a doe. I may tweak it a bit based on this experience.

I love the tranquility of the night forest. I wandered through the tree, sans flashlight, listening and observing everything. Every shadow, every whisper of wind, and every rustle in the bushes was enlightening. High above, the stars glowed bright and clear, touching the treetops with their truth of how large the universe is. In the middle of the night, a raccoon found our garbage bag. After a couple tries, it tore a hole in the bag, spilling a few paper plates and aluminum cans to the ground. It played with one can in the dirt for a while and then scuttled down the riverbank.

Thankfully, no bears found our camp, but there were plenty of squirrels and Blue Jays to keep us company. Magnificent streaks of blue glided silently from tree to tree while angry little squirrels screamed their annoyance at our disruption to their day. One big fat, furry squirrel decided that the crumbs from our spilt garbage bag (raccoon’s evil doing) were a tasty snack. He slinked and crawled close to me before quickly discovering that I’m a sneaky trapper as well. J Had he not been the world’s biggest squirrel, he wouldn’t have escaped, though!

So that’s my travelogue and a glimpse into the wondering impulses inside of me. I love the outdoors and enjoy incorporating my little adventures into fantasy books. Enjoy your week and happy reading.

~ Jamie

River Trip

My very first blog post mentioned the moment when I first decided to write. Since that moment, I've plotted and planned how to recreate the scene so that everyone who reads it feels what I went through. That day happened in 1989 and I still remember every detail, every thought, every taste, smell, sight, feeling, and emotion. It's so vivid in my mind that there are nights when it's all I dream about. I hear songs from that summer and am instantly transported back to the moment. Capturing the moment right is a big deal to me. No, it's a huge deal. Because I wanted to get it right, I never tried writing it before. Today, 23 years later, I'm finally putting it on a page; it will be a scene in book 3. Forgive me for the short message. I'm busy writing.

Have a great week. Happy reading.

~ Jamie

Pure Energy

To quote myself: "That was freakin' awesome!"

Yeah, that's the kind of week I had. Didn't get much writing done, but I'm not bothered by that. It was a week to recharge my batteries and add true inspiration to this endeavor. It was the kind of week that can't be categorized, so I'm calling it "Pure Energy."

First, work was a good time. Most people don't/won't say that, but I will. I enjoy what I do for a living and especially like the times when special projects come my way. I also LOVE that I can write while working. My boss totally supports me, which helps. I haven't told you what I do and where I work because it's too ubercool to share in this forum.

Second, I spent Friday at LDStorymakers in Provo, Utah. Pure, fanatical, geek loving joy. I couldn't imagine a better day of writing energy. I reconnected with a lot of writerly friends and met a bunch of new ones. It was fun to mingle with "famous" writers and a couple editors who I've met before. Since I have self-published, there wasn't any pressure to try to "sell" my book to anyone, which made a big difference in my attitude. Filled with phenomenal classes, StoryMakers is a set date on my schedule every year.

Third, my 12 year old son participated in a harp festival at BYU. This kid blows my mind. He's only been playing for a couple months and he's getting really good. Since I'm not musically inclined, I'm always impressed at the talent of my children. Great music.

Fourth, and this wasn't even the best part, I met some friends from StoryMakers and saw the Avengers in IMAX 3D. "Freakin' Awesome!" Go see it. Go see it. Go see it!

Fifth, I took a nap on Sunday afternoon to recover from my late night at the movies. (No, the nap isn't the best part.) When I woke, however, I had an amazing new book idea pop into my mind. It's so amazing that I don't feel qualified to write it. Really. I need to study some things and develop some new skills to write it. It's not anything that I read or know about, but the book idea sounds groundbreaking. I bounced the idea off my wife and children and luckily they agreed, which means additional support for yet another project. This last point is a big deal to me because I've always felt that taking a break or stepping away is the best way to inspire creativity. After more than three years invested in the Stone Portals series, and knowing that there's another few years before I finish it, the weight of it all is bearing down on me. Sunday's inspiration reminded me why I started this adventure.

Yeah, it's been that kind of week.

I held a giveaway about a week and a half ago. Since there were only two entries (inserts sad face), I decided to award a signed copy of ON FALLEN WINGS to both participants. Angela and Esther, congratulations! Send me the address you'd like your book sent to and I'll mail it right away. onfallenwings @ gmail . com

I also decided to join Pinterest. It's a great place for me to visually explain who I am. I've created a board specifically for ON FALLEN WINGS, so if you'd like another peek inside my mind, check it out. I'll add more photos as I find them. Jamie McHenry on Pinterest.

Have a great week. Happy reading!

~ Jamie

More Secrets

Whoa! What change in the universe had made this happen?

I’ve been tagged again. Thanks, Theresa. If you don’t know her, I suggest checking out her blog. Her novel, NO ANGEL, is a Whitney Award finalist. Here’s the fantastic questions she’s given to me, and my answers:

1. You're on a deserted island for six months with one person ~ who would it be and why? My wife. What a vacation!

2. You were caught in a meteor shower which left you with strange abilities. Now every time you eat chocolate, you can ... what? Hmm. Every time I eat chocolate, I can turn anything I touch into chocolate.

3. A friend takes you to an abandoned castle that has been hidden for centuries. She heard a rumor that great treasure was hidden in the sixth tower. Would you venture inside or turn it over to the authorities to investigate? What would you find? This is easy. I actually explored an abandoned castle while in France. Great adventure. If I find the pictures, I’ll post them. I’d go into the castle without thinking twice and would hope to find an old suit of armor.

4. You can only drink one type of beverage for the next year - what would it be and why? Orange juice. I LOVE orange juice.

5. Have you ever had to face a fear of yours? What was it and how did you overcome it, if you did? Since I was little, I’ve had an intense fear of skunks. Long story. One night as a teenager, I came face to face with a skunk. Screamed and ran away—thank goodness I was a sprinter. I’m still afraid of skunks.

6. Have you enjoyed certain ages in your life more than others? What is your ideal age and why? Nineteen. I was living in Paris and serving an LDS Mission. Ahh, good times.

7. Has anyone totally amazed you in life? Who and why? I’m amazed by anyone who overcomes a challenge to be successful. Helen Keller tops that list.

8. Have you ever written in a character in a story patterned after a real person ~ out of spite, because that person ticked you off? Not out of spite, but more for fun. A coworker annoyed me one day, so I told her I would burn her at the stake. My current WIP has that scene and it’s awesome! Now you can’t wait for it, can you?

9. Do any of your characters make you totally crazy because they have a mind of their own and take you places you hadn't planned on? I write in the first person of a woman. Ask me why—because I don’t know how that happened. Trying to keep her character doing the things that I want is a huge challenge. I want my character to react like a guy would, but she won’t listen! Grrr…

10. What is your most favorite phrase/paragraph that you have written? Can you share it? This changed my writing life and style:

Leila rolled onto her stomach and leaned on her elbows, propping her chin with her palms. “What is it like to be in love?”

I grinned at her curiosity and stretched my arms straight. “It’s like dancing barefoot in the meadow under moonlight,” I told her. “Love tickles your toes and then climbs to your heart.” I rolled on the grass. “It spirals toward your fingertips as you spin and spin. Then it reaches up to the moon, grabs its rays, and pulls them down like a warm blanket.”

11. If you could sit down and talk shop with any writer from any time period - who would it be and why? I’d like to spend some time with Victor Hugo. His style, in the original French, has always been an inspiration to me.

These have been fun. I'll think about new questions and tag some new people in an upcoming post.

~ Jamie

Make it so

Look under the cover of a great novel and its pages will pull you into another world. There, you’ll experience a fantastic story that changes you forever. Filled with magic, mystery, suspense, action, and love, each carefully scripted phrase will linger in the back of your mind and influence your actions back in the real world.

The real world. Well that sounds boring, doesn’t it? After chasing an imaginative adventure, who wants to drum out their heartbeats in a somewhat boring reality? I do.

Life isn’t dull. I believe there’s a connection between the things we can imagine and the things we can experience. The challenge is discovering what is possible and having the courage to make it so. That part isn’t easy.

In my first post on this blog, I opened with a phrase about crawling out of the Snake River. That day was one of many great adventures of my younger life. As the reality of what I had just survived sank into my system, I promised myself that I would write about it in a book. I never did.

Although I had almost died that day, it turns out that I feared sharing the story more than experiencing the terror of the event. Most people have it the other way around. A part of me wishes I could have been so lucky. Death, it seemed, wanted me badly. As life progressed, my collection of extraordinary experiences grew at such a pace that I was no longer surprised when I faced a mortal challenge. I always survived, though not always unharmed. The old saying is that one could fill a book with everything they’ve lived through. I could fill several.

Still, I never acted on my intentions to write the book. Over time, death grew bored of me and my adventurous reality faded into the expected life of someone who had stopped following their dreams. I had forgotten what adventure was and stopped using my imagination. I even stopped searching for it in books.

The title of this post is “Make it so.” I love the line from Star Trek because it tells us everything we should know about imagination. Don’t just dream about great things; make them happen; search for them. I feel like I’m living again and rebuilding the connection between what I can imagine and what I can experience. I hope you will do the same.

What if I Never Try?

I’m usually a positive person. I smile. I wave back to people. I don’t speak ill of anyone. I open doors for strangers. I’m hopeful about what could be when I’m daydreaming. That’s most of the time

Every so often, a little bit of self-doubt creeps into my being and ruins my day. While my intentions are to pursue constructive thoughts, that menacing demon takes over and makes me feel like I’m not good enough. “Everyone else is better than you,” that creature tells me. “You’re wasting your time. Hard work leads only to exhaustion.” The longer the thoughts linger in my mind, the more negative they become. Finally, these two damaging words enter my mind: “Give up.”

I wish I were making this up; I wish this were just a story. Sadly, it isn’t. This happens repeatedly. Over and over, the doubt returns and forces its way into my consciousness. It’s not often, but it doesn’t have to be—once the words enter my mind, the damage is done. I start believing my thoughts and sink into despair…

Fortunately, that’s the point where my inspiration comes to rescue me. “I’m the worst,” I tell myself, “so I need to work harder. If I’m wasting my time, well, at least I’m committed to something. Give up? Never. If I’m worth this much trouble to discourage, then I’m worth equal that in promise.” Like the sunrise after a starless night, my own words rescue me from hopeless abandonment. I start to believe. 

As my spirit lifts and my confidence regains its tread, I remind myself that no one knows what they can achieve unless they try. I’ve had my share of failures. That doesn’t mean I’m worthless. It means that I was willing to try. If I never try, then I’ll never know. And it’s in the unknown where fear resides.

Whatever you seek, whatever you do, please keep working hard at it. There’s satisfaction in the effort, no matter what happens in the end.

Dreaming Again

Find yourself in your creativity.

For many years, I kept my creativity locked inside so that I could work, work, and do the many things that paid the bills and kept money in my wallet. As I grew older, I felt that creative part of me grow smaller and smaller, until it was barely a flicker of thought. I knew it was there; but there’s no glory in art, so why create? That’s the argument I gave myself. I believed it. I lived it. I stopped dreaming.

Then something happened. My life changed. The world I had built through all that working came crashing down. As chaos enveloped my existence, I looked inside to escape my fears; I looked to my dreams, but they were empty.

So, I started writing again. At first, it was an exploration. I wanted to discover a piece of my past and see if it was relevant. As I wrote, my dreams returned. They were vivid, bright, colorful, odd stories that filled my mind with beauty.

I found myself and remembered: I love writing.

So, I kept writing. I wrote one book, then a second. Now I’m finishing my third book. Life has changed again, but it’s not a bad thing. I’ve found harmony between my writing and world that pays the bills. I’ve discovered a new path, a new journey. It’s not easy, but I like it.

I’m thankful that I released my creativity and found my dreams. If you’ve buried yours, let it out and start dreaming again. You’ll be amazed how much your world will brighten.