It seems the process of writing is a lot more than the getting down of words on paper. Or the screen as the case often is. For me the whole process starts with an idea, or a beginnings of an idea really.
Sometimes that beginning is in response to an emotion, event, place. Sometimes a person. Then there are the times it is just a feeling. Whatever it is, the words don’t always come at the beginning. There is a need to sit, metaphorically speaking. A need to let thoughts and feelings mull.
Sometimes I have the perfect ending. I begin with that and work my way backwards. I know what I want to say, I just don’t know the exact words I need to use to get to that last sentence. It is a bit chipping away, a bit adding and subtracting of words.
There are too, those days where the words just come. Where a determined need for them to out means fast typing and editing. Days when the message is perhaps more important than the craft.
Then there are the words that just won’t come. That will not be hurried along. They wait, jumbled, refusing to out until they are ready. These are the ones I really want. These are the words I wait for.
These are the words I listen for.
And if you listen, you may hear them too.