That Which Soothes When All Begins to Crumble
Though I welcomed—after our terror subsided—the stillness of our shelter-in-place life, we who had been circling and circling for years, the last few days I have felt as if I might crumble, my “dust to dust” having become friable, my feet of clay exposed, a descending that was not helped when the priest who understood me and yet encouraged my own peculiar way of experiencing God, so different from his own, died.
But I perked up like a newly-buried plant after a forgiving rain when I realized I could print off my manuscript and comb through it by hand with a pencil and sharpener and a pink eraser to create something that sings to me even if others cannot hear my voice.
I may not have been born a writer, but I am one now.
born a writer, COVID-19 depression, COVID-19 novel, Writing during COVID-19, writing inspiration
Pearl
Thank you Ellen – “write on”
Ellen Morris Prewitt
And so we shall <3
Joanne Corey
There is definitely something about paper and pencil. I’m glad they brought you comfort at a difficult time.
Ellen Morris Prewitt
<3