Freedoms

(I want this hoodie!)

I wonder if everyone who reads a books see's it like a movie in their minds? For me when I get into the groove of writing a story it's like a movie that plays in my head. Little things attract my attention and I have to describe them in detail just as they strike me. I am now just shy of 30 thousand words in my 50 thousand word challenge. The more I write the more I want to write and even when I am not clacking away at my keyboard I'm finding myself pondering the “movie” ahead. Wouldn't it be cool if this happened to this character. Writing is truly a way I can find freedom. When I'm writing my story it doesn't matter that I'm a poor ginger midget who is a little portly and a complete klutz. The only real thing that matters is if I can make my fingers tell the story of what I am seeing in my minds eye. With the invention of the internet I can use it to circumnavigate the bouts of aphasia that I get. Being creative with words to describe the darn word I can't think of also makes it just that much easier to describe a thing with out naming a thing. It adds a little suspense n'est pas? The only problem I have right now with writing is I don't want to read anything that I've written. It's not uncommon (I've spoke to other writers). The fear is this. What if the words I've written down match up with the movie I am playing in my mind. Quite often I'll scrap a blog if I read over it too many times. I've written better than 13 thousand words in the last 8 days and I'm very afraid that all of them might be garbage. I've decided not to read what I have written until I have completed the novel. That way editing what I've written will be like corrective surgery instead of a complete amputation. I have also come the the conclusion that 50 thousand words (boy that sounds like a lot doesn't it?) is probably NOT going to be enough to finish my novel. I'm not one to take the easy road, and so I soldier on in my writing.

Oh speaking of soldiers I do hope that all of you out there reading this have donned your poppies. The red ones that is. It's like the old adage, “If you are reading this thank a teacher, if you are reading this in English thank a vet”. Let them know that we have not forgotten the sacrifice that they have made, and if you know the family of a vet (wives, children, husbands, mothers, fathers) Thank them too. Although it's not their blood that has paid the price for the freedoms we have, it's their lives that are forever scarred by the loss of their loved ones if not by death then by injury or absence in their lives. How many of you out there could kiss your spouse or parent good bye knowing that this kiss could be your last. Usually death comes as a surprise and for the families of those who serve it is a constant apparition that haunts their daily lives. Loving someone who serves is a sacrifice in it's self. The brave faces aren't just worn by soldiers they are fixed upon spouses and children and parents as well. The brave faces often fall off when the service person goes away and it's quickly replaced by tears. We send our soldiers off to war and it's almost as if they are dead already, absent from day to day life, unable to be reached. When they come home it's like Lazarus coming back from the grave only to be rinsed and repeated. Most people only live through the death of their spouse once if that. Service people's families live it over and over again. This is something that we should not forget. We made a promise not to forget and we should hold steadfast to that. Never forget the high price paid for our freedoms because it wasn't free. It came at great cost. It was born out of sweat and blood and tears and sorrow. I will never forget and I will teach my child not to forget and I pray she teaches her own children. In our memory those lost find life, never forget and thank you.