It’s been hot for about a week now, so progress on the library is slow. Paint doesn’t set in this heat and this writer refuses to work in this kind of weather. It’s been a week where I wish I believed in air conditioners, but alas I cannot justify it in my heart – the planet is far more delicate than my biology, and humanity, after all, is made strong, we are made to endure. And so, most of the work on the library and in the yard is done early in the morning or late afternoon and sometimes well into the witching hour. At times it’s been frustrating that I cannot speed up the process. I guess I’m impatient to have my new writing space. Then, yesterday, while attending a baby shower for a friend thinking that I should be at home either writing, or attending to the million things left to do on the library before its grand opening in two weeks, I had a small, but overdue epiphany. I watched the mother-to-be, her hands resting across her plump belly, smiling and enjoying the moment, content in the here and now and I thought if it takes me five years to write this blessed book, so be it. Imagination cannot be rushed. As Heather (from Heather Conroy’s Verbal Report) said recently , “you are exactly where you’re meant to be”. This is where Prudence comes in, the third commandment of my 10 commandments of writing. Prudence is not just knowing when not to write; a prudent writer knows the goods are already here, stored in the recesses of the mind, awaiting their summons. All things in good time.
