Meeting a Writer

One of my lifelong dreams is to be a writer.  A storyteller.  Someone who writes books, from home, for a living.

And I haven't blogged (written) in months.

A few weeks ago, bf and I were at the shore, enjoying a few days of calm, work free days.  It was a quiet beach, the weather was perfect, and as we were walking back to our towel and umbrella set-up, the family in front of us asked if we'd take a picture of them.

Bf took the picture of the grandma, granddaughter, mother and uncle.  We ended up talking to them for awhile.  Trent talked to the uncle who was a garbage man from Binghampton, NY.  I ended up talking to whoever wasn't taking care of the granddaughter.  The grandma was a writer who called us a "beautiful couple".  She had just written a book about an interracial couple, and we reminded her of them.

I asked her if she did the whole write an outline and make sure the story follows the proper build up, climax, let down cycle thing they always taught us about in school.  Nope.  She just writes.  She has a dream, she knows it will make a great story, and then she writes it.  In a few months.

Her advice:  "just write.  Stop talking about it and thinking about it and just do it."

Who knew Nike's slogan applied so well to every single aspect of life?