A Space to Think
writing
Good Morning
Visiting Spring Brook this morning. What’s in my composition book? Developing the back story of two of our main characters.
I find that I’m a combination of plotter and pantser (..”by the seat of your pants” type). I don’t know exactly how everything (or even what for that matter) will unfold in the town of Spring Brook, but I do like knowing who the residents are and how they fit into Spring Brook before I start. Or at least as much as I can.
She’s full of surprises that Spring Brook.
I won’t reveal too much, but I can tell you that when I write, my characters are the sum total of who I am and who I wish I was. I think this is why plagiarism is such a heinous crime. Plagiarism is essentially robbing someone’s soul and relabeling it as your own.
Spring Brook is built upon who I am, how I process the world, and what I feel. I can’t wait to share it with you, whenever that might be. Until then, I’m so glad I’m able to share this process with you. Thank you.
I’ve gotta get back to the Brook, but first – take a moment and drop me a comment – How did you meet your best friend? How long have you been friends? And how have they impacted your life. Answer all or one here or on my Facebook page The Mustard Seed @TheMustardSeedBlog
Two Words
Earlier this year a seed was planted in the garden that is my mind.
Sounds fancy when I write it like that, doesn’t it?
Basically, after years of digging and rooting for inspiration on my own I finally stopped and gave it to God. (What can I say? I’m stubborn and a slow learner.)
I prayed and I waited. Big shocker here but two words popped into my head one Sunday morning. (I love it when He does that, don’t you.)
Spring. Brook.
Within the course of a few minutes those two words grew into a town brimming with life.
Spring Brook, Arkansas. (My home state)
The ideas started flowing then. Much like the brook that runs through the fictitious town’s park. A park that is situated across Main Street; full of worn brick buildings filled with wares of delight and necessity all beckoning at visitor and resident alike. Sounds lovely? Don’t worry, one day you and I can visit and walk the paths that meander throughout the pages of the books.
Within a few hours the town of Spring Brook opened up and showed me that there’s more to her than meets the eye and that one book just wouldn’t be enough. Two simple words became a concoction of words forming the flesh of characters who are now after six months more friend than fantasy. Two weeks after the seed was planted a town was born full of old friends whom I’ve never met.
And so I set about growing a garden. One filled not with soil and produce, of course. (I’ve a black thumb. In fact, I hold the distinction of being able to kill even fake plants. Let that sink in.) Rather a metaphorical garden containing the small town of Spring Brook. A town full of people searching for God’s love and His purpose for their life.
Two simple words whispered into my ear and placed upon my heart during a Sunday morning sermon. Two small words that are ready to grow into something only God has foreseen.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m slightly overwhelmed and at times just downright terrified. What if I can’t do it? What if I’m wasting my time, and even more so- His time? What if—well the list goes on. It always seems to grow doesn’t it?
When one sets about growing a garden, one must be willing to tend it. This includes pulling out the weeds. All of those fears and doubts? They are most definitely trying to choke the roots of what’s been planted, and I’m ashamed to say that at times I’ve let them. Along with other weeds besides the obvious. Such as procrastination and distraction.
I’d be naive to say there won’t be any more weeds. They’ll come. I’ll be ready though. I’m tired of letting the What If’s keep me from this. I’ve got my tools and I’m ready.
It’s time to go to Spring Brook.
The Mustard Seed 