I’ve been noodling around with words. Despite the fact that I write for a living, this is not something I do very often. Usually my writing has purpose. I have a Project (capital P essential) and I give myself a deadline for that Project and I just… launch on in, holding my breath until I get to The End.
But I had a couple of conversations last week that made me stop and think: Am I in such a rush to get where I’m going that I’m missing the scenery along the way?
Driving from point A to point B along the freeway might be the most efficient way to reach a destination, but so much of the journey is lost in a blur.
It’s when you meander along the B roads that you meet the most unusual people, buy the sweetest peaches (maybe that’s just me), notice the shades of sunset in the autumn leaves, and see the koalas sitting in the trees.
I don’t have a Project right now. I’ve written two complete manuscripts since November last year and I’m sitting here wondering what to do next. So I’ve decided that a little bit of noodling is in order. Playing with words, feeling their weight, to see what I might discover when I get off the beaten path.
Who knows where we’ll end up?