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First, I'd like to mention that English is not my first language, but for some reason I almost always write my thoughts in English and I think in English more than 80% of the time.
Last week, I was travelling and took an overnight train. Somewhere around midnight, as I was silently looking at the darkness on the other side of my window, a few words came to my mind and I felt an urge to right them. Such an urge, in fact, that I typed them on my cellphone and emailed them to myself. It seems to be the beginning of a novel, maybe. And it goes like this:
"He had been standing in the rain for only the gods knew how long. One thing was certain though, a moment ago, it was still daytime and now it was dark. His watch indicated 3:26 a.m. but he had a hard time believing it. That would mean he had been standing there for the past 11 hours or so, which didn't make sense at all. He vividly remembered walking in front of the old general store and asking some directions to an old man who was sitting on the porch and he was certain that he then continued to walk, so what was he doing, still standing in front of the same general store in the wee hours? Of course, the road was deserted, every single soul in this small town was asleep.
"Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"
Well, almost every single soul. William turned around to face the person who had spoken. Ah. Of course. A police officer or some sort of law enforcement representative. He couldn't clearly see the outfit the other man in front of him was wearing.
"Are you ok, sir?", the man asked again. "You seem a little bit lost, would you mind accompanying me back to the station? It would be a warmer place to discuss. I bet you could use a good cup of coffee."
"Yeah", William said after a short pause, "Yeah, I definitely could."
There was no use staying there. He was far from his accommodations and he had nowhere to go. As he started following the other man in front of him, William wondered why he wasn't feeling cold despite the rain.
"I'm Detective Arlo, by the way. Ethan Arlo." The other man said.
"Nice to meet you. Uh...Colby. I mean, William Colby... is my name. I'm sorry, I'm a little bit confused right now."
"Yeah, I can see that. What happened to you, William Colby? You're not from around here, are you?".
"I don't know how you guessed it" said William with sarcastic tone.
Both men laughed a little.
"I'm sorry", William said a few seconds later. "I'm not sure I understand what happened to me and I'm a bit on edge."
"It's alright. Don't sweat it. The station is right down the road. Let's go there first, we can talk after."
William nodded and followed detective Arlo."
You know, I used to love writing. I once wrote a novel... like 15 years ago. Along the way, I destroyed it. I destroyed everything that I wrote. I kept nothing. I don't regret it, though... well, maybe a little. I used to sit down to write for an hour and then realize that 8 or 10 hours had passed by. Then I'd re-read my stuff after a few months and wonder where I'd find such inspiration, I was amazed, I couldn't understand where it came from.
Then I stopped writing completely. I'm not sure why. I became serious and talked myself out of imagining stories because it was useless and a waste of time...
It's been a few months now that the thought of writing again is flirting with my mind. But a part of me keeps telling me that it's a waste of time, that I could do more useful things like trying to expand my awareness or doing spiritual things. But when I was sitting in the dark, on the train, with no other sound but the movement of the wagon on the rail, when I felt those words flow into my mind, a part of me felt completely elated.
I have no idea what the plot would be or even who William and Ethan are. A part of me wonder if I would even be able to add a single word to what I've already written. Doubts fill my mind... but I remember that I had no such doubts 15 years ago. I just never shared my writing with anyone because I feared judgement and ridicule.
Part of me wants to know more about Will and Ethan... but there's a real struggle inside of me... I guess that's why I'm posting my thoughts here...
@lane I think it sounds intriguing. It begins as a mystery and I love that. Gets me engaged and curious off the bat. I love suspense/mystery’s. You can even put a spiritual spin on it. I think it could be a wonderful story and it’s a good idea to explore it. If you do it, you do it and if you don’t, you don’t. Don’t put added pressure in yourself. I would re-visit it maybe once a day, when the mood strikes or when you have some down time. If it’s not something you want to pursue then I think you will know that in time. I think it would be a shame to put a talent to the side because you feel that you SHOULD be focusing on something else like expanding your spirituality. That can happen in the process or the writing is the creative outlet that your soul needs at this time. It invited you in for a reason. And by the way, I was living vicariously through you when you described yourself sitting in that train, staring out into the darkness while listening to the tracks. I love that. So peaceful and relaxing. Definitely something I would do.