Today’s #CleanWIP theme and collaborative article is Wind (the breezy kind). [More info]
“When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it.” ~ Henry Ford
Use CleanWIP Magazine’s #CleanWIP hashtag with lines from a work-in-progress and your tweet might be included in a https://t.co/a8se3sed2W collaborative article for authors who lean ‘clean’ and readers who love them. The #CleanWIP theme for SUN, OCT 20 is WIND (as in breeze). pic.twitter.com/t1TdgCnpjM— Earl Chinnici (@earlshelpdesk) October 20, 2019
Maddie’s gaze was fixed on the field. A little breeze blew her curls around her face, and her pink lips were turned up into a small, thoughtful smile. Ace took a mental snapshot. He wanted to remember her just like that forever. #CleanWIP— Jessica Marie Holt — Author (@Jessica06311722) October 20, 2019
#CleanWIP Thunder clapped and lightning zigzagged across the dark sky as they raced ahead of the storm. The wind whipped at their backs, swirling dust around them. Clint kneed Butter again, urging him on faster, while praying they would reach the ranch before the downpour hit.— Laurean Brooks (@Laurean2) October 21, 2019
Being a Floridian fifty years, I’m no stranger to wind. So it seems to me I should be able to write so much about it, on demand even, but I’m finding it difficult. I began to write yesterday while still being affected by post-tropical storm Nestor. I wrote two paragraphs and stared at them about the span of half an hour then discarded them so swiftly as though I’d suddenly realized they were infected with a highly contagious pathogen. Why would anyone want to read this?
I tried again and achieved similar results.
A third time I began anew and only made it through two sentences before being disgusted by the way I arranged the words. Perhaps I am tired, I thought. So I slept.
As I young child, I recall days with family flying kites on a gentle breeze from the schoolyard. Had my wind-related experiences stayed in the neighborhood of kites and pinwheels and gentle ocean breezes, perhaps it would be easier to write about wind today. But then, how could I ever hope to convey the differences between the center of a hurricane and the center of a tornado had I not been intimate with both?
Minutes after I rose and with great determination, I attempted this article once more. Only minutes later, that disheartening realization of failure set in yet again.
Anyone near me knows of the anxiety I now feel, but how could one topic cripple me to this point where words will not flow?
But isn’t that how it often goes and with nearly any work-in-progress? When it comes to matters of the mind, a work might be ‘in progress’ quite a long time.
Perhaps I am tired.
Perhaps tomorrow the words will flow freely.
Perhaps this tale isn’t so much about wind as it is about writing and about those spaces between words. ~ Earl Chinnici