Writing books has flow and meaning.
Lightning shivers my timbers, literally, since I live on a boat, in Florida, the lightning capital of the world. Storms, big ones, are a great way to disengage your ego and relax into your role as part of a greater whole. Once the big flashy stuff passes, the healing rain falls, the world slips into peace, and for the greenery gasping from the heat, rebirth.
Writing is often a mirror of a thunderstorm. A grand idea, building and knocking the words around, gives way to a softer editing, a chance to soak in the sensory, savor the expansion in scenes to make them jump off the page. In creativity, the lightning and thunder carve the bones of a book, but the rain, the gentle filling of spaces, give the book meaning and value.
In the aftermath of the launch for Boogie Beach, I’m letting the storm drive Book 3, and resting in the rain. Stay well, create big.