Writing is a craft. Maybe sometimes, an art. It takes time and it takes practice. Most of all, it takes desire and it takes will. I am sadly lacking in those latter two these days. I think I have mentally decided that I am too old to be doing this. Hence the sunset picture of old boats, above! I’m late to the game, even though I’ve written papers, newsletters, exams and sermons for a long, long time. I once thought I might write a book. Now, that seems not only impossible, but not particularly desirable.
I don’t have what it takes. I don’t want to sell books, to market myself, to impose upon my friends to sell my stuff, to sell me. And who needs one more book anyhow? There are SO.MANY.BOOKS. So . . . I occasionally challenge myself to an everyday write here — as in this 31 day challenge, or Advent and Lenten devotionals. And I continue to write monthly over at SheLoves and bi-monthly for our denominational magazine. But that last one seems to be on its last legs. Yet another revamp for the magazine, this one without regular columnists, or so they tell me. And I’m not sure how much longer my voice will be welcome at SheLoves as the writing staff over there gets increasingly younger and more activist than I am or ever could be again!
So. . . what to do with God’s call to ‘write my stories down for my grandgirl?’ When that call came, I only had one and she was a newborn. Now, almost twelve years later, there are two grandgirls. Maybe I’ve already written enough of those stories?
Time will tell.
