by Cheri Chesley
The other night, I car-pooled up to our church building with a couple of other ladies for the Relief Society broadcast. That doesn't seem like a big deal, but in my new area our ward building is 30 miles away, and I wasn't going to be able to go unless I got a ride. While driving, we chatted about this and that, and then one of them said, "Aren't you a writer? That's what I heard."
Like most authors, I love and hate that question. Love it because, yes, I am a writer and I adore it. Hate it because I am not a fan of talking about myself. But it did steer the conversation to books, specifically MY books. As it happens, she's an avid YA fantasy reader, and purchased a copy of my book that night. (it doesn't always turn out that way, but it was pretty cool)
In our conversation, I tried to express to her how vital writing is to my well being. It's not just something I love; it truly loves me back. Kind of like a form of therapy, I guess, where I get almost as much out of it as I pour into it. It's become pretty clear in recent months that if I don't write I'm a miserable person--and not that much fun to be around. I've said it before: Writing keeps me sane. There's irony there--giving credence to the voices in my head keeps me sane. Um, really?
The conference broadcast inspired me. Doing what makes me happy. Staying true to my ideals and my values. Keeping my sacred covenants. All of these things are in harmony with my writing. Remembering my value. Harmony again.
It's a pity the drive home took so long, because had I been able to rush straight to my computer I probably would have written into the night. As it was, by the time I got home and got my girls back from their grandpa's house it was past bedtime and we had church in the morning. :)
Today, though, is a new day! And I'm going to polish and shine up chapter 12 to make it beautiful.
Monday, September 26, 2011
by Cheri Chesley