Mothers, listen to your daughters. Or at least, listen when you have been blessed with a daughter like mine, who is also a fellow artist and writing companion. (Catch a glimpse of her amazing work at http://persistentgreen.blogspot.com.)
Last night, when I'd shared with her some of what I'd written in the first few days of this Last 100 Days of 2009 challenge, she urged me further. Yes, she praised my determination to fulfill the day's quota, especially when it was wrung out in the last moments before the stroke of midnight on an overloaded day. But why not try writing in the freshness of morning?
Hmmm. What would come out, I wondered, if I let my creative self out to play in the dewy first hours of a brand-new day? Perhaps Little Daughter hath much wisdom . . .
So I tried. Rolled out of bed, after morning prayers, grabbed my bedside fuzzy robe, and parked my Self at the computer. Turned randomly to page 149 in my prompt book and read the 5th line: "phone. I was gone for a week of teaching at the end of summer"
Ah. "end of summer." That's all it took. An hour and fifteen minutes later, I have 1162 words of fiction printed out and ready to tuck into my binder.
And the bonus: I will go through whatever else this lovely day includes, breathing the scent of creative work filling my house, my heart, my world.