Five days in and I’m empty. It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about, but that none of it’s ready. Whenever moments like this happen during Slice of Life, it gives me pause. I think about the day in, day out demands we educators put on kids. We ask them to write multiple times a day each and every day. It’s no wonder they stall, hesitate or even break down.
I jotted some notes down in my writing notebook and I let it sit. I let it sit and I let the ideas slowly congeal into what they want to become. I had a friend back in college. She was an author. A very good one. I once asked her what her writing process was like. She told me that a character would pop into her head just a faint sketch of one. Then that character would begin to live her in mind. She would see her or him doing small mundane actions, cleaning a counter or making a sandwich. Eventually that character’s world began to take shape and the story would emerge.
So as I look at that notebook of ideas and snippets, of ruminations and rememberances, I am excited at the stories to come. There they sit: waiting, marinating, coagulating, some may fall to the wayside and others are about to be told.