There is a point in the writing process where the characters begin to write the story for you.  When you enter that zone, writing becomes a pleasure.  Not that the leading up to that point is not enjoyable; it’s just harder work.  Lots of writers like starting.  They like the blank page.  I like to start, but then I get really nervous, followed by frustrated, even angry. Although ideas are always in abundance, bringing the different elements together is a monumental task.  I find the process daunting and wonder why I put myself through it. 

A quote comes to mind spoken by writer Beth Mende Conny:   

 “No one is asking, let alone demanding, that you write. The world is not waiting with bated breath for your article or book. Whether or not you get a single word on paper, the sun will rise, the earth will spin, the universe will expand. Writing is forever and always a choice — your choice.”

 And that’s why I write.  It’s a choice.  It happens to be a choice I enjoy choosing – a choice that is filled (and fills me) with mystery.    Every time I produce a new script/draft, it is a mystery to me how I get to that point.   There are days that go by when not one single word is written and every idea is hackneyed….yet I keep at it.

Which brings to mind another quote from writer Benjamin Cavell:

“The drudgery of being a professional writer comes in trying to make good days out of bad days and in squeezing out the words when they won’t just flow.”

Let’s get back to my original thought which was that the writing process is a pleasure when the characters begin to write for you.  And that is when the writing really flows.  That is the mystery of creation.  Twig is in that sunny place right now.  I have just completed draft three of my screenplay Twig and after writing draft one, I didn’t feel anything special about the script.  Draft two was mildly better.  And then something happened as I began re-working each of the scenes in draft three.  The characters started speaking to me, the plot became more intriguing and I began to believe in this world I created.

 Not sure where draft four will take me.  It’s a mystery.