A Special Writing Place

    I never realized how important an unchanging, familiar writing space was until I tried to write in an unfamiliar space. Before my writing came to a screeching halt years ago, I usually wrote outside where I could smoke. If the weather was nice, I sat on the porch. If it was nasty, I sat in my car. No matter where I was, I always had soft music in the background. I can't concentrate or write in dead silence. The house is gone, the car is gone, and I quit smoking the night before my open heart surgery (go figure). 

   Along with the battle to restore my memories and ability to write, finding a new place to write added to my struggles. I can't get too comfortable in a recliner or sofa as I will fall asleep (age). It also can't be too uncomfortable or it distracts me from writing. I've been unable to find a spot in the house we live in now, and the car isn't comfortable, at least for writing.

   A couple of years ago, I bought an old cabin cruiser at auction as a project to keep me busy. It's moored at our local marina, and is about the size of a small camper on the inside. I don't smoke anymore, but killing the desire to light up while writing took years to overcome. The inside of the boat has a couple bench seats with a small table between them. It fits me perfectly. It's quiet with no distractions and has a small radio for background noise.

  It's been a tough road finding my memories and rebuilding my writing grove so finding a writing space that fits me is a god-send.

   I'm including a snippet from a chapter I just wrote. Let know what you think.

   Thanks for reading.

Unused to being fussed over, the young mage savored every touch and encouraging word as it strengthened his belief in himself and his humanity. The spirit below would be totally bereft of even a memory of her humanity. This was his only advantage and he needed to make the most of it.

After a farewell bow and smile from Nathan, Aldan spun, the magical sigils embroidered into his robe flashing. He walked steadily towards the phantom palace. As he moved through the passageway, Marcus lit up the staff in an encouraging glow to send Aldan on his way.

As they got closer, details began to emerge. The entire image rippled like flowing water while all the edges appeared to melt and drip. The coppery stench of blood grew stronger with every step.

“Amos, the palace is dissolving. I don’t know if that means she no longer has the strength to maintain it or she is purposefully drawing the blood to her to boost her power.”

“Since we are obviously walking into a trap, I hope she has enough power left to complete the spell. I hate to think what might happen to us if the spell fails half complete.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Aldan placed his hand against a wall and opened a door where none existed before.

Renewing the Mind

 

This is another attempt to once again ride the writing horse that bucked me off years ago. The fact that people still read my blogs is humbling and has driven me to try and renew the habit.

My life has changed so much in the last couple of years, and not for the better. Maybe some of you might remember that I had open heart surgery five years ago. Due to the length of time with minimal blood flow to my brain, slight brain damage occurred removing my ability to write or remember any of the story lines I had stored in my head. I lost all confidence in my ability to critique others and actually started to hate reading. I wrote a few blogs in an attempt to kick start my writing it was so difficult that I gave up. The fact that I'm reduced to living on a meager fixed income doesn't help.

A little over a year ago, the light in my life went out when the woman I'd loved for over fifty years passed away with no warning in the middle of our conversation. That almost broke me. The grief and trauma of her death have lessoned so at least I can finally talk about it. The tears still flow, but I need to find another purpose for my life.

Not long ago I was telling my doctor how I felt and that I wished I'd never lost the memories of my stories. I really wanted to continue and finish the stories I'd started. What she said surprised me. She said that my memories were probably still there. Recent research has shown memories still exist after an injury to the brain, it's the pathways used to access those memories that are damaged. With work and patience, those pathways can be rebuilt or renewed. She encouraged me to try.

I spent weeks with my old notes and the books already written. I would read passages from the book and then write them out on a sheet of paper. I copied the names of the main characters over and over and then added their personalities. I was finally able to read the first books without getting frustrated as the story came back to life. I don't know how many of the memories have completely returned, but enough for me to feel confident in continuing the story. I returned to my critique group and they're glad to have me back. Beginning the habit of blogging again is another step in my goal of finding meaning in my life again.

I hope my story will give someone who's lost memory due to trauma of some kind the hope that their memories may still be there. It wasn't easy and gave my one hell of a headache for a couple days, but it was worth it.

Thanks for reading!