|My son's shoe print, a bird's footprints and a tire track meet up at the beach.|
|The most prepared beachcombers come armed with a grocery bag.|
Picture your favorite library. Now picture the same hallowed space completely empty. Imagine the void in your life left behind with no place for books or stories or poems.
Not only should we be writing for our own pleasure or, as most writers believe, because it's as natural to us as breathing, but think of the obligation we have to share what we know/experience/believe to be imperative/feel with others.
Sunday at midnight, as my family of five lay side-by-side along the beach, staring at the heavens, we had front-row seats for the coolest show I've ever seen. The Perseid Meteor Shower rained shooting stars across the black sky as the waves crashed a few yards beyond our feet. One particular meteor streaked so brightly across the sky, we all pointed and shouted to make sure the person lying next to us didn't miss it. Others skittered only briefly through the night and, by the time someone cried out, "There's one!" it was gone. I hope your goal is to write a meteor-dazzling work that takes someone's breath away, that you experience that glow, that incredible, life-changing moment when the story is complete and you get to share it with someone who cries out: Now, there's one!