By Kelly Bridgewater
Last week, if you missed it, I wrote about a number of
things I did to spark my imagination as a young girl. It is important to read
that before reading this post because they go together. Go ahead.
Read that
post. I'll be waiting.
Right.
Here.
Go.
. . .
Welcome back.
Part two begins here:
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As long as I could remember, I have been telling stories to
entertain myself. In fourth grade, I started to write stories down. I would
even write different endings to movies that I liked, for instance, the Mighty
Duck series. Or I would write down stories that happened in the fall or around
Christmas to cool myself and remind me of those feelings we all get at the holiday
season. I wrote a number of stories featuring haunted houses, mansions,
forests.
When I entered high school, there was a journalist program,
where you could write for the school newspaper. Since I wanted to write and had
no other creative outlet at the time, I signed up and wrote for my high school
paper for three years. But my love was still creative writing. I needed some
outlet for my imagination to flourish, so I started stories while sitting at my
desk in class. Of course, I didn't do it when I was supposed to be working on
school assignments, but every spare moment, I was scribbling away in a number
of diaries that I turned into my creative outlet.
After a number of years of getting married and having three
boys, I graduated with my Bachelor's in English with a minor in Creative
Writing. While the creative writing part did not spark my imagination, thanks
to a certain teacher, I did write stories to earn my degree.
In graduate school, I earned a MA in Writing, and I opted to
complete a creative thesis where I had to write and defend a 120 page creative
collection of short stories. It was different, but it still didn't seem to be
the best stories I could write. I understood I was working on the process, but
it didn't feel that inspiring.
Since graduating and being a stay-at-home mother who is
homeschooling our third son, I have completed four complete 90,000 words
romantic suspense novels. They were exciting, and I love seeing how far I could
push the button with my characters.
In the past three years, I have fallen in love with World
War II history set in London. I have done tons of research and keep watching
documentaries on what happened in London. I have outline, very roughly, the
idea for three World War II novels set in London during 1938-1940. I have the
heroines and the heroes lined up and waiting for me to write their story.
But two years ago on October 31, my Daddy died. My creative
juices tanked. I haven't written anything, and I mean nothing. Not a short
story. Not a summary. Not a plot synopsis. Nothing. I sit at the computer, and
my mind goes blank. I have looked over a number of my novels, but nothing
sparks an idea.
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In the past couple of months, after months of praying and
worshiping God to bring my desire of my heart back, I get flashes of
inspiration, and have picked up a number of research books to read and take
notes, but I haven't actually gotten into the mood to write anything yet. There
are days I hear the Lord nudging me to sit back at my computer and write, so I
think the days are coming, but not yet.
I honestly can't wait to get back into my creative zone and
write my World War II novels. I think they need to be told. During this trial
with my Daddy's passing and other issues in my life, I think I can make the
faith journey more humbling for my readers, which is what I really want to
accomplish anyways.
Sorry for the long posts!
What about you? Can you trace your writing journey? Where
did it start? Are you stuck in a non-writing world right now? Hints to get out
of a non-writing funk.
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