Saturday, April 3, 2010

Waiting For The Rain

With another pass of my manuscript off for editing, and my major freelance client reviewing the latest work I sent, I figured I would take this lovely chunk of free time and write a bit…something I’ve been missing for a while.


I wouldn’t call it a block, exactly. The words are there, I feel them. And I’ve been in this situation often enough to know that this dry well will once again fill and even overflow. Then I’ll put on my purple boots and stamp in the puddles with joy.

Now, I’m just waiting for the rain. I’m waiting for a character to pop up and tell me his or her story. I’m waiting for an overpowering emotion or news item to overpower me and force my hand.


I’m trying to be patient. I take long walks and watch Spring spring. I clean out cupboards and dresser drawers and pantries.


Yet while I’ve been waiting for something miraculous to happen, other miraculous things have been happening.

The sun comes out. A daffodil blooms. Baseball season officially starts. The bag of clothes for Goodwill grows fuller. I can actually close my closet doors. My spice cabinet is clean, updated, and stands ready for battle.

Yes, a filled jar of turmeric is a minor miracle, but in this house, inhabited by two creative professionals who’d rather be at their computers than pushing a dustrag, just finding a clean bowl can be a challenge.

I’m just waiting for the rain.

Because it does no good to curse down the empty well’s well, listening to my own impatience echo back. It does no good to shake my fist at the sky.

The best thing to do is occupy myself with Other Things. These Other Things, ideally, will take on such a magnitude that I’ll get to the end of another wordless day and say to myself, “I haven’t thought about that well in sixteen hours, thirteen minutes and seventeen seconds.”

This is when I take up knitting. Learn ballroom dancing, conversational Hindi, how to make a perfect vegan flourless chocolate cake. Play online chess with a guy from Pakistan. I tell myself that one day, I can use this information in a novel. But deep down I know it’s only a distraction.

I’m just waiting for the rain.

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