The last few weeks have been an interesting one for me. Late one Thursday night a vengeful wind tore through my backyard, ripping a large limb from a tree. The loud sound of its landing followed by the instant loss of power startled me from my writing. I powered down my laptop and emerged back into the real world.
A week had gone by without the pleasure of electricity. I found myself unable to write because of it. Excuse after excuse, I was completely full of them. Once the “POWER” was restored, I still found myself uninspired to write due to the lack of internet at my home.
Edgar Allen Poe, Nathanial Hawthorne, Mark Twain, and Louisa May Alcott did not need the comforts of the modern author to produce an amazing and engaging story. Not having google at their fingertips didn’t stop their imagination. So, I have to ask myself, why did I allow these things to get in the away from doing what I love?
Pressures of being faster and better, I - like most modern authors - have relied on advancing technology to meet the ever-evolving expectation. What we are losing in the process? I believe I'm missing out on the joy and magic of writing.
As I think back on what I could have done differently during my “dark times”, I’ve decided to change my approach to writing with my next novel. It’s time to turn off the electricity, light a candle, challenge my inter Poe, and rely 100% on my own imagination.