Molly & Me
Sarah Groundwater
Me: What are we going to do today Molly?
Molly: I think today I was going to go try on the bridesmaid dress.
Me: Oh yes! Thanks for reminding me, Mol.
Molly: No problem. I also think the love of my life is going to make a surprise appearance.
Me: What? Who?
Molly: You know.
Me: Ummm, actually I don’t. This is about you, not some man and a stupid love story.
Molly: Actually Sarah, I think that it is. In fact I am fairly certain that Colby is the man for me.
Me: No! You hate him remember?
Molly: I pretended I did. Now just shut up and tell the story.
Me: Hey? Who’s in charge here?
Molly: Me.
Me: (speechless)
Life is full of surprises, making it delightful and full of joie.
But when a life you are creating is able to surprise you, you can’t help be anything but astonished. Following me? Probably not, I am pretty sure that was confusing.
I’m talking about writing a novel. Currently I am the proud creator of a thirty thousand-word document telling the story of characters residing in my head. I promise you I am not crazy (not completely anyways) but, from somewhere in my brain, a girl named Molly is telling me her story. And, like a dutiful not-quite-crazy person, I am writing it down.
Writing a novel is daunting. Writing this article is daunting. Every morning and every evening I sit at my pretty Mac and wait for Molly to start talking. I know how ridiculous this sounds. Don’t I have an outline? Don’t I have a map I drew up before attempting to write sixty thousand words. You would think so, but no. I did have a tiny, minuscule outline mapping out where I thought the story might go, but like life so consistently does, my writing surprised me.
I can’t help but wonder where this story comes from. One on hand I thought it was a story that needed to be told because I believe it will touch women’s hearts. Yet, when I sit down to write, Molly’s life seems to be told to me. Sometimes I worry I don’t know what the next chapter will be about and then to my delight I am guided to the right keys. I have heard some authors talk of another being passing through them as they wrote. I laughed, thinking how stupid it sounded. Then I started to write. I’m not laughing at them anymore.
Characters I never knew existed have begun to appear. People I thought would be Molly’s staunchest supporters are only briefly mentioned. The man I thought she was supposed to hate is making her fall in love with him all over again. In essence, her life is full of surprises that keep me on my toes (or rather fingertips) every day.
This is the magic of writing. You don’t have to over think it or fear it or shy away from it. I bet inside each and every one of us is a story some character is dying to tell. It’s the commitment to spending time with these characters that will transform you. If you commit to writing each day, even for ten tiny minutes, you can’t help being surprised by the stories residing somewhere deep inside you, waiting to be let loose. For three years I shied away from this commitment, but now I wouldn’t live life without it.
This spring I dare you to take on the challenge of finding out what you are capable of. Dare to dream a life beyond your own. Sit with a cup of tea, or a coffee, or a hot chocolate. Get out your pens. Make friends with your keyboard. Whatever it is, just do it. Go beyond simply wanting or wishing to write a novel, a poem, a play, anything; you might just be surprised.