Yesterday my oldest son graduated from kindergarten. He finished at noon, and it was a HOT day, and I took the youngest one to buy pool stuff for the pool and picnic party. When we got to the store, I was stunned by the mountains of lunchboxes, schoolbags, and school supplies, and a mother exclaiming that she had to pick it all up NOW, otherwise it would be sold out when she needed it in September. Wasn’t school ENDING today?
Once I did pick up my son, in his backpack was not only a order form for school uniforms (deadline 2 weeks away!), but a list of school supplies we needed.
What does all this have to do with writing?
We are constantly striving to be ahead of the game, forgetting to live in the moment. Producing is a primary goal. I cannot help but think back to Anne of Green Gables, mailing a short story, and receiving a response months later. Her braids streaming behind her, as she ran with excitement, a letter in hand.
I imagine dipping into ink, and scratching away by candlelight, without all the pressure to produce. It makes me wonder how my writing would have been if I had only a typewriter, or even a paper and pen.