Name:
Location: San Marcos, California, United States

Southern gal living in California. Have been writing since the age of ten and am addicted to the written word. Have stacks of books-to-be-read in almost every room. I teach writing on a volunteer basis and in a paid position. I once worked with foreign customers for an aerospace company; interesting job that gave me great insight into other cultures. Family scattered all over the US so have excuses to travel.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

ASK FOR A WORD

A recent flight to and from Florida gave me some extra, quiet, uninterrupted time to write. I was elated as I had been pushing to meet a book deadline while packing (and repacking) for the trip and tidying up loose ends before a two-week absence from home. I deserved this time to write.

So what to write about? I didn't want to pack notes for some big project I had in mind. I wanted something new, never thought of before, no seed already planted. And it began to jell on the beginning flight from San Diego to Atlanta.

Before hubby went to sleep (I swear that man can sleep anywhere!), I asked him for a word. Knowing what my favorite type of story to write is, he offered the word "comfort."

My seat mate was young--tall, I could tell by the legs folded beneath the seat in front of him. Clean-cut, muscular, perfect short haircut. Living near Marines and Navy bases for many years, I saw military written all over the man.

It turned out to be Army--Special Forces. He shared some of his training when I asked. He was rightly vague about the parts of the world he had served in but admitted to Iraq. And while he napped I observed him, and took notes.

There was little time in Florida to write. The family hadn't been together for five years. My youngest granddaughter was getting married. My three great-grandsons were a treat to be with. I did find some time to sketch the outline for a story.

On the flight home while I sat near the window, hubby slept (yes, again), and the sky turned from afternoon to evening, I wrote. There's this mother going home to care for her terminally ill daughter when she meets a young Army officer on her flight. He listens intently to her as she speaks of facing the loss of a daughter and then shares his loss of too many young soldiers under his command.

Somehow I have to get them together, to have them help each other through their pain.

I haven't completed the story yet. But I'm not worried. There's an old saying--"Don't push the river." It means some things have to be left alone to simmer, to happen by themselves--in their own time.

I'll wait for just the right word or words to bring my story full circle.

What's the word that can get you started?

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