Some of my students are struggling to get in the creative mindset, given the new lockdown restrictions that have been rolled out. I discussed one or two techniques with them last week but, as always, I stand by free writing as a way to loosen cogs. After all, "The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on." (Louis L'Amour)
This morning, before we talked about the nitty-gritty dirty work of editing, I gave my students five minutes to scribble ideas in response to a picture. And, because we need to practice what we preach, I joined in...
These things, as they often do, started innocently enough. But, like bad debt, I found the more I poured in the more I poured after, throwing good intention after bad. Addiction feels like a term that should be reserved for those worse off than me. But with every ring of, "Just once more," I felt sicker and sicker in myself - or, with myself. Like light chasing after shadow, good after bad, I promised this one - this very last one - would be a line in the sand. It was easier to make that promise, too, because I really didn't think I'd have the guts to steal someone's heart a second time.