I should be writing. Instead I’m sitting at the water’s edge of the pond, watching an enormous bullfrog.
He (she?) is sitting there, immobile. He’s waiting. Like me.
Except he’s waiting for insects and I’m waiting for ideas about how to end the story I’m working on. It’s a little story and I’ve spent far too much time on it, but I can’t seem to let it go.
“Better times come to those who wait.” So they say. Not necessarily. It depends on how you wait!
I’ve never been good at waiting. Usually I get too impatient and try push things ahead – which is when something inevitably goes wrong, whether I’m writing or trying to change a hotel room because I don’t like being next to the ice machine. I take the story somewhere it really doesn’t want to go and find myself blocked; I end up in a room with a brick wall two inches from the window.
But there’s waiting…and waiting.
What about active Continue reading