Wednesday's Words for August 26, 2009

After nearly two weeks away, I’m glad to be back home. As much as I love seeing new places, I’m most comfortable in my own home, surrounded by my own stuff.
That saying, “be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home” is golden as far as I’m concerned.

And yet, often when I come back from vacation, I’m hit by a sense of unreality. It’s almost as if I have to bond with my house and possessions all over again. It takes me a few days to get totally back into my comfort zone, to really feel at home.

The house was still standing, if somewhat fuller of people and things upon our return than it had been when we left. My daughter had brought some of her furniture here, in anticipation of a move to a new apartment that was to take place September first. Since that apartment stood vacant, she was able to get into it two weeks sooner, a circumstance that ultimately proved happy for us all.

Well, except perhaps for her kitten.

Her new address is less than three blocks away, and kitten has followed her here twice now.

One of the first things I did when I’d finished unpacking was to open the package containing our new 800 thread-count sheets. I must confess they felt smooth and thick on my fingers! I always wash new sheets before using them, but I decided to wash these twice before putting them on the bed—which I did this past weekend.
Oh my, but they are wonderful! My beloved has declared that this is the way bed is supposed to feel, and has been looking up the addresses of bed and bath shops in his spare time ever since. He has decided that we’ll treat ourselves to those 1000s – if they can be found—and call it an early Christmas present to ourselves.

In the meantime he’s gone back to work, doing what he loves to do, and among the kind of people he truly does understand best—men. I know he enjoyed spending day after day with me, as I did him. Aside from being husband and wife, we really do like each other and look forward to time spent together.

And we like returning to our separate occupations, too.

I’m back writing, and happy to be so. I think I needed that solid break. Yes, I had taken my lap top with me, and had been able to compose and post my essays “on the road”, as it were. But I didn’t do any novel writing while I was on vacation.

Back in my own home, sitting at my very cluttered desk (ah but I know where everything is), and residing in close proximity to the inspiration elves, I’m pleased to report that my fingers have been working with a vengeance. I was able to finish the novel I’d been working on before our trip.

Of course, now I’ve begun another. In order to be prolific, one has to write.

Occasionally I get days where I’m able to write more than 6ooo words, but that doesn’t happen very often. Usually, I manage around 2 to 3K, but do that for many days in a row before needing to be distracted.

In the past, family and friends would note my devotion to my craft and say to me, “Aren’t you going to give it a rest for a while?” My standard answer has always been, “And do what?”

This is what I am, a writer. I’m happiest when I’m writing, when the words come together in a way that sometimes hints at poetry, or sometimes just good rhetoric. When the image I’m striving for dons a bit of cover and waits in anticipation to be discovered by the reader.

I’m most content when I’ve managed to escape into the world of my characters, letting their stories flow through me, to you.

Love,
Morgan

Feed the flames of your passion…with a novel by Morgan Ashbury
http://www.bookstrand.com/authors/morganashbury