Need to Write

02/12/2017

Everyone can create. It is the sharing that takes time and effort.

People I've talked to say they can't write, they have no original ideas and, besides, they don't have the time. I agree it takes time and I often feel guilty that instead of writing I should be cleaning the house or prepping for work or spending more time with family and friends. But then I get involved in my characters and that guilt fades away.

Original ideas are nice, but maybe your more-common plot line has a refreshing angle. Move it around in your head while you walk the neighborhood or ride the bus or train to work or school. Don't force it in any one direction, let it take you where it wants to go.

And you can write. Rules of grammar and punctuation shouldn't scare you off. That's what editors are for and, who knows, your individual style may grow from those incorrect riffs on a thought or action.

Now, it is time for me to do as I have just advised and write. Here is what I am working on:

"Rider, is it your desire to leave the King's service and Cross the River?"
"It is."
"And do you have the payment needed?"
Claire handed her a heavy gold coin.
"This should do it ."
Gwen found herself smiling at the Rider's upbeat attitude.
"Then, my friend, let us help you begin your final trip."
She waved her arm and open the Window to the Boathouse. The pair Stepped through and Gwen paused to give them both a moment before she moved to the door.
"This way, Rider. Your boat awaits."
She opened the door and led Claire onto the porch where the Rider paused and gasped as she saw the flowers lining the path to the dock.
"It is impressive, isn't it," said Gwen with a chuckle. "I don't get tired of seeing it. And they all mean something. The white and yellow chrysanthemums mean loyalty and honesty, and sorrow and love. The marigolds are creativity and remembering the dead. The roses love, longing and because these are so deeply red, they also mean farewell. The purple sweet pea is also a departure flower but it is more like goodby and thanks for a good time. And the different zinnia colors means slightly different things but they echo the others: affection, thinking of an absent friend, remembrance."
"It's beautiful," breathed Claire.
Gwen watched as her friend lifted her eyes from the brilliant flowers to the River.
"Oh -."
"Stop," said the Courier sharply taking the Rider's arm. "Don't tell me what you see."
Claire continued to stare toward the water as she lifted a hand and put in on top of Gwen's.
"I won't, but I believe there will be a wonderful welcome for you when we meet again in time."
The phrase used by Nathao's people to remind themselves that they would be together again, almost brought Gwen to tears again, but Nan increased the flow of the new power moving through her and she calmed her emotions to the point she could smile and acknowledge that this was the best step for her friend.
The stones on the path crunched as they walked to the pier and the simple wooden boat. Gwen grasped the dull gray gavel that hung from a fraying rope attached to an aging tree stump and banged it once on the wood. The man sitting in the boat facing the water, turned and when he saw them, slowly climbed onto the pier.
"Dob, you get your payment this time. I am sorry Barnabas bypassed you rather like Rakeem did, but I am sure you know the details. Now, this Rider has completed her time with King Nathao and he offers this to you to see her safely across."
Dob said nothing as he accepted the heavy coin and Gwen wasn't sure if her apology registered. He dropped the payment into a pocket and stood back to help Claire in the boat.
The Rider turned to Gwen and embraced her.
"I thank you for everything you have been to me and for me, and I will miss you," she whispered.
Gwen hugged her back but, this time, felt no need for tears.
"Give my love to my grandfather and Rakeem and you will probably see me once in a while traveling to Luke's. Just remember I won't see you so don't do anything to scare me," she said as she pulled back and grinned. "And yes, we will meet again in time."
Claire wiped away a tear. "In time, Courier. We will meet again in time."