Just Right...or Just WRITE!

  But what if I have nothing to say?  Write anyway.

  But...what if my writing is awful?  You will make others feel really comfortable in their abilities.

  Ok- I can dig those responses to the voice that continues to plague my creative urge.  Plagued or not- I'm NOT stopping.  I WILL write until the words are no more... then..I.. will..squeak...out..a..few...more...syllables. 

Why?  Because I can.  And because it is a responsibility- a joyful one at that!

There is a certain freedom in realizing that perfection is overrated and just putting a thought out into the starry universe might actually encourage someone to leap their latest hurdle or perhaps put words to that haunting melody that won't loosen it's grip on free memory space- not even at 3 a.m.

  What are we waiting for?  Time to live our BEST lives now.

  I was looking at the fraying curtains hanging in my living room today and instantly thought of the crisp white linens I had been saving for summer- sadly, still packed in the storage bin in my attic.  Why are they packed away in my attic at the start of September?  Because I was imagining them hung when my walls are freshly painted and carpet is laid.  Such a silly thought- they weren't even brand new when I bought them.  Why not hang them and have crisp white curtains that freshen the room? 

  What good is waiting to WRITE until the wordsmithing genie grants that illustrious sentence which oozes chic and humorous undertones to the intelligent, deep, and thought-provoking wisdom we'd like to share with the world?  What if we wait to journal until the children have given us memorable events that we can pass on to their children's children?  What if we let minutes, hours, days, months, and years go by without recording a simple sentence that made us smile.  What if we forget that it's ok to JUST WRITE- especially when no one else will read it?  We will end up with blank pages and fuzzy memories of a distant day that held no importance to the grand scheme of life- except to that child that asks "Mommy, what did I used to do that made you laugh?"  One of my favorite journal entries is a simple recording of what I was doing in that very moment- Laying in bed at the close of day with my husband softly breathing beside me and my newborn son snuggled up close to my heartbeat.  I then sketched that moment (to the best of my sketchy ability) so I wouldn't forget the tenderness within those very minutes.  How grateful I am to have that memory, from ten years ago, to pull out.

  Perfection is a plague...the cure is simply- put pen to paper, paintbrush to canvas...heck..paper is fine too!  Lend your voice to the wind, let your feet leap about, share a thought with another soul, photograph your favorite scene, plant a seed and watch the miracle that unfolds, pick up that hammer and hang that picture you are storing on your spare room floor...will a bit of crookedness rob it of the initial surge of beauty that stirred your soul?  There's a reason the logo "Just Do It" was so grandly applauded-- our thoughts can stop what is meant to be enjoyed, shared, and lived out.  Perhaps still the thoughts and trust your instincts- have fun and Just WRITE!

  

Help meeeeee...PLEASE!

  Totally struggling here...  For three years now I've been working on a book about the experience we had with our seventh child who was diagnosed with Trisomy 18 while he was still in my belly.  This condition was termed "Incompatible with life,"  and that term proved true...incompatible with this physical life- that is.  We were able to enjoy our beautiful (yes, he truly- physically was a sweetie face- cutie pie!) son for two days and then went through some of the darkest moments of our lives as we said good-bye, mourned for, and buried this baby .  I'm sure I am still grieving to some degree- I don't know that a mother ever stops grieving a child she must bid farewell to.  I also know I've had some tremendous healing and made huge leaps and bounds in growth due to those times...
 
  HERE IS MY STRUGGLE and where I need your help~  I'm working on the fifth (at least) edit...by now the story has passed through a dozen people's hands.  I'm starting to doubt my words, thoughts, phrase-ology, sentiments.

  I KNOW mine is a sad story- shoot, I lived through it.  However, my intention in sharing our tale was to let other people know that even if they are going through a tremendously sad time in life or are facing a painful unknown- THERE IS MUCH GOOD THAT CAN COME from their particular struggle (such as the JOY that is even sweeter when balanced against tears) and the COURAGE that's built when fear which sought to tempt and overcome a soul into giving up- transforms into STRENGTH with a backbone of steel when that fear has been looked in the eye and faced down- then marched right over as that soul chooses to keep moving forward come what may!

  Three years after the actual events and I'm still re-reading my words and seeing the depth of sorrow from which I wrote.  I am literally reading the words "I cried" a zillion times in the manuscript....  So, I ask you, DEAR READERS- to weigh in and offer your advice on these two questions:

1) Do I inject more humor throughout the story to make this book more bearable... My rose colored lenses are a bit more polished these days and I acknowledge my view is not as melancholy (or perhaps there is an advantage to reaching others who are in the midst of a similar struggle right now?)
2) Should I recognize I'm just too close to the story and hand over the manuscript to an unbiased editor to guide the story or should I continue this torturous pace of re-reading and editing to offer views from where I am now in addition to my outlook while going through it?

I know you all are busy...I am simply asking (pleading, okay...downright groveling) for an itsy bitsy minute of your time to bring me out of my sludge of the writers Pit of Despaaair (total reference to The Princess Bride;)

Thanks Everyone!