Unfortunately, I do not always get to blog as frequently, as I used to...  Not because there is no time, I guess it is more because, life decided to up and direct my energies elsewhere.  

Life is a precarious thing and if you do not pay attention, you end up finding that weeks, if not months have passed and you have lost your direction and plot, by which steered your path and purpose.  

So today, I have taken stock of everything in my life and am making a conscious effort to getting back to what used to bring me, great pleasure - writing. 

I sort of just stopped doing everything and let life consume me; I placed my energy in feeling all the things that entered my life, to absorb my energy.  I did not voluntarily give up who I was ~ am; it is just that being highly empathic to everyone else's needs, puts what I am doing, dreaming or creating - on hold. And before I know it - great lengths of time have literally disappeared - sacrificed yet again, for someone else.

Do you do that sometimes?

Do you allow the world to take you on a ride, you really have no idea where it is going, just because you never planned it?

I do not do this often, but sometimes, something sticks on your person - grabs you with both hands and says..."pay attention to me - I need to tell you something."  So, you stay - you listen - you absorb the energy - you help - you break all your rules - you accept everything, you said you would never again.  And then, you are in a predicament.

You are stuck, not knowing which way to turn because you abandoned yourself, so that life could take you on a fairytale ride of immense adventure.  You imagine all the possible scenarios and outcomes, if you just give a little more - of yourself. You get so caught up in the storyline. You forget to keep writing - because now the story lives.  It breathes - it has voice - it has substance and being... it has a heartbeat. 

...A heartbeat that you cannot possibly come to the decision of erasing, from your life - because it is now part of you.  It grew toward you, as who you are - it gave you wings to think you could fly and create all the wonders, you ever hoped of making real.  And I guess that is where writing finds its body - so that it can walk its own miles, see its own flesh and characters as they come and go in the story that somehow became real.

You know, stories are one of those things that everyone says or expects to - come in the form of a book, a manuscript, a painting...a film.  And yet some of the most memorable, loving and unexpected stories just arrive - and sweep you off your feet.  They are the stories that are built in the shadows in the places where no one goes, because it is dark and mysterious and somehow beats life into the parts of you, you knew existed, but never were brave enough - to feel. 

They are the stories that will stay with you, until the day you die - until the comets of time no longer pass in similar tandem, in the heavens.  They are stories that cannot really be explained to others, not because they are so unique, but because they are so special - words cannot wrap meaning around what the heart experiences - in the story.  

You are left feeling totally breathless and empty of all artistic, creative energy because you do not know how you could ever be privileged again to experience a story of the same grandeur, meaning and significance in one's life.  

Stories have the ability to change who you are - whether they are found on paper or scribed by the blood in your veins - they all matter - they all need to be told - held in one's heart.
​And sometimes...they need a place to rest.

As always, for this hardback diary I have painted a watercolour.  The LILIWIOFE' theme, its colour of purple and mauve with an overlay of black and white - pen and ink drawings are highlighted, on this year's cover.   You will find lots of inspiring quotes to get you moving; to think about life and to appreciate all that you have.  Yes, it's been difficult times of late - for me included.  I don't think there is anyone on the planet, who hasn't been affected by CoVid and all the associated problems that come with this unusual event.  However, I don't think we can let it define us, in all that we do and want to achieve in life.  One cannot just stand still, vegetate or hide away in the closet, hoping this will just go away. 
​
​We all must bite the bullet and just live life for what it is.  I mean, really live life.  ​

However, for me this diary represents time - something we all have, but in limited supply.  It is a full year, that we can choose to engage with our dreams or flitter them away on something less meaningful.  And sometimes, it is not just a year.  It could be as much as six years, just gone in an instant and you don't know where those hours, days, minutes have flown.  Time has a funny way of healing one's heart.  You don't plan to lose time or put your life on hold - it just sort of happens without you realising it and before you know it, you have not moved in the direction you set out to or something else has taken its place. 

Since my father's passing, six years ago - life has just up and flown away and with it a great deal of my confidence.  He was the person to whom I discussed my ideas, my plans and creations.  We were very similar, in many ways.  This diary represents a promise - not to waste a minute, an hour or a breath.  It is a commitment that I can physically see on my shelf, see what I have achieved and how long it has taken me to create those dreams I had planned, prior to him being consumed by cancer. 

Dad was a man who was energetic, creative, passionate and had dreams like the rest of us.  We don't know what Mother Nature has in store for us, where we will be, who it will affect, how we will react or how we will claw our way back when the dust settles. ​

All I can tell you, is that we should not let 'time' steal our plans for achievement, joy, love or life.  So many times we hear, "oh I'm just killing time; I don't have the time; I lost time; I can't give you my time."  The list goes on.  I'm sure, you could think of your own phrases that you use on a daily basis, as to why 'time' is stealing what you set out to do.  Yet, my point is simple - we don't have time.  It is gone as quickly as you can say the word, 'time'. ​

Writing a book doesn't have to be a difficult task.  Yes, it can be time-consuming, but if it is something you really enjoy - writing a book as well as illustrating it, can be extremely rewarding - especially if you know, you have done the lot.

I think the hardest part, has to be slotting in regular periods during the day or evening to partake in the act of writing.  It is really easy to get side tracked and say to yourself, 'I'm not really in the mood to write,' or 'I'm stumped - so I won't write today'.  Both are not really useful to developing consistent opportunities to write.  A little everyday gets you into good habits; just like brushing your teeth and yes, you'll get so expert at it, your work will begin to shine.  You just have to make time, no matter how small.

150 words written everyday, over the course of a month will give you a 4,500 words start on a YA novel - usually around 60,000 words.  This means you'd just about be finished writing your book, in 1 year.  If you put in double the effort each day - you'd be finished in 6 months - double that again and you'd be done in 3 months!

​Remember, the 10,000 hour rule will only make you accomplished,  three times that will bring you to virtuoso standard. :)
                                                                  

Let us, help you!  Get in touch.

Halloween is meant to be fun - full of dressing up; enjoying pumpkins and sweets and finding infinite homes to visit that have joined in the fun of making an awesome scary scene!  Enjoy, but be safe!