We write for love…

In 1994, I took a two-month sabbatical because I had reached a plateau in my work. I was on empty and knew I needed rest and time away from my business. Every day I wrote in my journal and asked myself, “What should I do next?” One day I swear energy coursed through my arm, into my fingers, and onto the page. “Write your book,” my hand wrote.

Okay, who am I to argue with fate? Or the gods? Even the muses? So I started. If anyone had said that I’d get up at 6:00 AM on Sunday mornings to write, I wouldn’t have believed it. An interest in writing had clearly slipped over the line into a passion.

After giving birth to my first book five years later in 1999 – No More Blue Mondays/ Four Keys to Finding Fulfillment at Work – I fueled my passion by taking seven trips to the Southwest. I studied with Natalie Goldberg, author of Writing Down the Bones (and many other books), and attended the Taos Writers’ Conference. Sagebrush, Taos Mountain, endless vistas, cottonwoods, and swooping magpies. Sigh. My urge to write expanded to include poetry, essays, and fiction. Even Haiku.

For over fifteen years I’ve immersed myself in writing through attending writing classes and workshops, reading like crazy, and participating in a writing group. A year ago I started facilitating support groups for writers as part of my coaching business. On June 12th, I’m sponsoring a Sunday Salon in Oak Park for writers to read and raving fans to listen.  A friend suggested I put on paper what I’ve learned from these experiences about being a writer, not about how to write. I took his challenge.

Next time:  14 thoughts about writing.

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