The Long Awaited Exhale

I have been working on a middle grade novel for almost a year. I am on my 6th revision. And sometimes, like today, I just get stuck. My brain gets thick like fudge and I can’t think anymore. Then, you add heartache and grief from my computer, and I reach my all time limit of frustration. So what’s a writer to do…

Without a thought to stop me and pull me back to my computer, I throw on my Uggs – it is finally cold here in the North East – grab my favorite mittens, paper, pencil, tissues, a bottle of water, and my faithful companion, McKenzie, my collie/shepherd mix.

Kenzie, hiding under my desk as I type away...

Ah the fresh air! I take deep breaths in and let it all out. I am ready, strapped with all the arsenal a writer needs – stimulation, freedom, and fresh air. So we walk, McKenzie, sniffing out any possible dangers that lie ahead, and me, staring up at the naked branches above. See, my story is about trees. I love trees and being in nature, and when I feel all clogged up inside, I need to get outside and listen to the trees.

It is great to live amongst the trees and a river. I love being on the canal listening to nature, smelling nature, seeing nature. And I come alive. Thoughts fill my head, tumbling one after the other, like the graceful autumn leaves themselves. I find a rock to sit on and take out my paper and pencil while McKenzie stands guard. And I write. I write at a feverish pace. I throw all mechanics out the window – spelling, grammar, complete sentences – none of that matters when a brainstorm thankfully hits. I just write. And when I am done and I know I am on the right path, I exhale.

It’s always the same. It feels as if I haven’t exhaled in maybe years. But when I do, I know I am done. And then I walk home, bound with my brainstorm of fresh ideas - a gift from the trees. My head is now clear, my cheeks are cold and pink from the crisp autumn air, and I am ready to begin again

Kenzie, as a puppy being loved by Emily