I’ve recently moved to my very first home that my family and I bought and own. It’s been a production of work, moving, settling in, meeting neighbors, hanging paintings, planting trees, joining homeschool groups, and a million other task both fun and exhausting.
And now we are getting to the part where I have to put the drill and shovel down and get back to my mini-career of writing. I have a book half finished, a book or two started and an editor that is getting tired of waiting on me.
But I find so many things that just must get done each day before I can sit down and write! Right?
I had every writer’s fear when moving to this new home, “will I be able to write there?” I did some major writing work at the old house we just moved from. When we moved in and once we were settled in and had toured our surrounding area, I sat down one day and this inspiration came out of me that I had only felt a couple times in the past. And it never left. I wrote book after book after book and then I challenged myself with fiction and did a few of those books. I started blogging a year ago this month and, though I was not into the idea, I grew to love it. Mostly to fill in the lonelies and be able to share with others when I had no adult to converse with.
Now I’m here and I had some fear around being inspired but then I remembered that I need to settle in first, navigate my new land second and then, and only then can I sit and write again. I also realized by the second or third night that, yes, I would be inspired here. But my writing will take a different course now. It has changed so much over the two years and now I’m focused on fiction. I have a feeling I will be inspired to write many good stories here.
This house is old and has a wonderful energy. It’s been through a lot and survived. It’s been abandoned for years and kept itself together where other homes would have fallen apart. It is so grateful and joyous to have us here filling it with baking, chitter chatter, drama, coffee brewing, laughing, and constant work and cleaning. We have filled its yards with roses, plants, trees, and gardens and we have painted it with delightful colors and fixed all its broken parts. We have soothed it, washed it, thanked it and we have grown in skills and patience, pride and thrift.
I believe that it will support me in my journey toward the written make believe. And my neighbors alone have given me food for thought. There are some stories right there.
Then the next morning as if in response and answer to my question of being able to thrive in my new career of fictional writing, the old house gave me a gift.
I had plugged in my speakers to my laptop and started up Pandora. I hadn’t listened to my online station since moving. I had an old radio I listened to for the last 3 weeks. I have all sorts of Christian gospel and contemporary, country, Indian, and Disney on there. I have tons of stations but these are the ones I have on shuffle right now. But on this particular morning, Pandora played a long list of show tunes, old musicals, and music from old movies. I had to check to see if I was even on shuffle and what station it was coming from. I hadn’t heard any of these songs ever! Then I looked up some of the musicals and found that many were from the 1950’s! Was it the old house playing some choices for me? Who knows. I believe old houses have souls. How could they not? With all the people that have lived in them.
What is even more bizarre is that I’ve never heard the songs again since that morning. My Pandora is back to its old list. So, there is my answer. I think my writing career will be supported just fine.