Write Yourself Alive 30 Days of Writing

Day 13---I got nothin'. Cannot write this without incriminating others, so won't write it. Rather long today, I apologize.

Day 14

Dig Deeper: How or when did life (or people) take your crayons away? I’ve always hidden my crayons. I’ve never let anyone take them away.

Writing Prompt: Describe a day or a morning in your ideal life as a writer or overall creator. If you could live the Writer’s Life you imagine, what would it look like? Go into detail as if it was a page in a novel. Don’t try to make it perfect, dreamy, or unrealistic, keep it down to earth, just like any alternative reality, with its ups and downs-however, one in which your current ideal vision for yourself as a Writer has materialized.

She awoke slowly and stretched, then glanced at her sleeping lover. These were the times she liked best. Slipping out of bed so as not to wake him, she quickly dressed, grabbed her iPod, phone, and set the coffee to start in thirty-minutes, then she was off to the beach.

The waves crashed softly on the shore as it was low tide. A few terns and sea gulls were at the water’s edge picking away at their breakfast. The music filled her head as she took deep breaths and began her walk. She swayed to the beat of the music as her mind whirled with the next scene in the novel she was writing. She listened to her characters as much as she wrote them. Never wanting things to be out of sync with them.

The sun had risen a couple hours ago and its warmth made up for the chill of the ocean breeze. She was halfway through her walk when her phone vibrated. Reaching for it she smiled.

Of course, it was her publicist, Margie, calling. “Hello, Margie.”

“I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, I was just about to head back to the house from my beach walk.”

“We have an interview lined up for you on Friday, with KWLP radio….”

I tuned out the rest as I headed back to the house. “Text me with the details,” I told her.

Reaching the last ten yards I saw, Alan standing on the porch a coffee in one hand and waving his phone in the other. I jogged toward him wondering what crisis was at hand now.

He’d finished his call and put down his phone as I came up the steps. Wrapping me in a huge hug he said, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. What’s going on?”

“Need to hit the showers and head to the city, they want me on a consult immediately,” he replied not letting me go.

I leaned into him, “Will you be gone long?”

“Just over night.”

Sighing I gave him a kiss before extricating me from his hold. “I’ll start breakfast.”

He let me go and headed for a shower and to pack. Life as normal for us.

After breakfast I walked him to his car and held him a little longer as we said, “Good-bye.”

As he drove out of sight I felt the emptiness his leaving seemed to create. Then I turned and headed for my office. I wanted to capture my morning thoughts on paper before anything else got in the way.

In the office I booted up my computer and pulled up my work in progress. Then I began the scene I’d been working in my mind on the beach. Part way through, my phone rang. Although I was tempted to let it go, I answered.

“Hello.”

“Mom?”

“You were expecting someone else to answer my phone?” I quipped.

“Be serious,” Jess snipped.

“Okay, what’s up?”

With a big sigh she began, “Erik left us.”

It was my turn to be shocked, “What do you mean Erik left you?”

“Erik told me last night he wanted a trial separation. We talked for hours, but he packed his bags this morning and left.” She was crying now.

“Do you need me to come over?” I asked.

“Would you, please?”

“I’m on my way.”

“And, Mom, don’t tell Dad.”

“No problem, he’s had to go in for a briefing for a couple days.”

Hanging up the phone, I looked at my work-in-progress. Well, I sighed, this will keep for another day. I saved what I had written and shut the computer down. Then I grabbed my purse and headed to see what issues my daughter was really having with her husband.

The life of a writer, (this one anyway) is idyllic until real life steps in.