I stopped work on my memoir about a year ago. Teacher and I didn’t agree on how to move it forward — we just didn’t see eye-to-eye. Some distance was needed. So I took it.

A whole year is a long time, and to tell you the truth, I hadn’t expected to be away from it so long.
We’re not used to leaving things letting them steep. We drive to completion or at least I do. to the accomplishment

But then, in mid-February, I started writing again. Poetry. Oh, I don’t really write poetry. Never took a course in it. Can barely remember what meter, sonnet and iambic pentameter mean.  But, I opened the door a crack and a bunch of thought and feeling forced its way out on the screen.

Like any muscle, writing needs to warm up and that was a warm up.  A couple weeks later, an essay presented itself, and again, like all my favorite writing, it forced its way out of my head onto the screen, wouldn’t stop beating in my brain until I got to a keyboard.

That essay is in its fourth draft… to go before I get additional feedback and then try to place it.

It feels great.