The Right to Write

I do a lot of saying here, and not much doing.

I tell you about my need to write, yet the writing is what I neglect the most.

There's a huge, hairy, green, slobbery monster within me that threatens me every time I decide that yes, THIS is the time I'm going to go through with it.  THIS is the time I'm going to start over.  THIS time, the story will flow from my fingertips, through the keyboard and onto the screen.

THIS time, I won't feel like a failure when I read what I've written.

I'll just let the writing stand - like some huge stone in a river.  I'll let it say what it wants to say, damning the force of the water, sun, wind, rain, hail, sleet and whatever else tries to knock it down.

And when the monster comes, I'll pick up that stone, that stone that weighs 1,000 pounds, and I will heft it over my head and smash that monster to smithereens.

And then...then I'll write again.

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