I woke up with a post in my head.  This happens quite often but by the time I get a chance to sit down and write, the words I need have been pushed aside by others or hidden themselves away.  No matter how much work I put into the post, it never quite matches the one I wrote in my mind.

I read a lot of posts, essays and comments by writers on the experience of writing.  Some even take questions on the writing process.  I could never do this.  Partly because with our very busy, very loud life there is just not much time for introspection.   Mostly though, it is because I don’t actually have a writing process. 

Unlike many writers I never run out of words.   I read about others painstakingly coaxing words and phrases out, then carefully weaving them together to form a whole but I have no experience of this.  My words are always tumbling around inside my head. They are yelling and fighting, smashing themselves against the inside of mind, determined to  escape.  When I write, the words crash onto the paper or the computer screen like a tsunami.  It is always a race to get them all down before they disappear. 

I never accomplish this.  I look back over what I have written and I see gaps. Missing words, phrases and sometimes entire sentences.  The words rushed out so fast my fingers could not keep up and now they are gone.  Are they scampering around on the desk?  Did they roll under the stove? Maybe they climbed out the window? I know, I know, words are not tangible but it seems like something should be left.  They were powerful and I don’t understand how they can just vanish.    

I always go back later and try to fill in the gaps but it is never the same.  I can find new words but they never read right or feel right.  I lost a collection of stories I was working on due to a drive crash a while back.  I have started to rewrite a couple but they are not the same.  I even like the beginning of the one I am focusing on better than my original.  It is a much stronger piece of writing.  Still, I see the gaps and it bothers me.

Lately, my life has been like my writing.  Too much going on to process and moving way too fast to keep in focus.  I am not afraid of change, but some days it feels like I am skirting the edges of pure chaos.  Yesterday we told several family members about some of the changes and our upcoming move this summer and while it was hard (we have been here for about ten years) I feel more settled.  The move seems both a little more real and at the same time a little less overwhelming.  I finally feel I can start shuffling around what needs to be done and in what order. 

My in-laws are on the road this morning for a visit so I am off to conquer the bathroom floor and the ‘make your own copies of photos’ machine.  The words will have to wait for another time.

- Kit