Sometimes I wonder where it comes from, this compulsion to write. I know it’s always been there, sometimes pushed aside for long periods of time but it is always there. Now that I am focused on writing it has been like turning on a tap with a faulty washer.
It is always there. Drip. Drip. Drip. In the back of my mind. If my character was in this exact situation what would she do? Story ideas pop into my head at obscene times of the day and night. I need an app in my brain that records my thoughts as when I think of an idea I start writing. In my head. The keyboard in my head types so much faster than fingers ever could. I swear I could write a whole chapter in a minute!
I am compelled to write. And it feels right. And that sounds so lame. I mean write, right. But it is just true.
It’s not unlike an addiction in the rush I feel when a story starts forming in my head. The adrenaline, the gentle surge of electricity to through my heart, the tingles through my stomach. Oh, it sounds so cliche, and it would be if it were not real.
People say ‘find your passion’ ‘find what makes you happy’ and maybe, just maybe this is it. Apart from husband, children, family, chocolate. This is my happy.
What compels you is your happy. Could this be true? Well, yes, I do believe so.
What compels you?