Keeping at it is the key. No matter what you are doing, continuing to do that which you are doing is how you eventually reach your goal/dream. The operative word here is eventually. Sometimes achievements can happen quickly. I’m not saying they don’t. It’s just that most often it takes time. It also depends on what you are doing. Writing a book takes time anyway, but it begins to take less time when you do it all the time. The process becomes easier and the creative flow continues. BUT, for writing to get easier and faster, you MUST persist and continue on. No matter what life throws at you, no matter how hard it gets at various times, push through it.
NEVER GIVE UP. I believe in you. Others believe in you. YOU believe in you too.
Day is but a light with life to live,
rejoice and stroll in Earth’s green meadowed parks,
embed in you the yearning of your soul,
a thread to reach and sew life’s gifted oats,
meant to thrust on others life’s warmth and glow.
L. M. Montes
With lilt a breeze gives me a jilt,
and on my cheek it plants,
scents of lavender caress,
floating aloft a flowerbed.
Quietly by the shore
The waves roll softly o’er my feet.
I gaze out upon the sea,
Diamond like sun crystals
Twinkle on mirrored waters.
Clouds, pillowy puffs,
Sweep gently across an ice blue sky,
Sea blown breezes whisper through my hair.
In the distance, seagulls,
Swooping and swaying,
Sing their victory song.
Tis joyous to see such beauty,
When inner thunders storm.
Like rains of hurricanes,
Wind whipped blows—-
Seem to never cease.
But this glorious creation of sunlit skies,
Which God Himself has sent,
Has blown away my inner
Typhoon and laid my fears to rest.
Breathe fresh and breathe free,
Let go of all showers of yesterday.
Let all flow out to sea,
Never to return and bother.
Your love is my strength,
It gives me warmth,
When I touch you,
Your love sings to me.
When I close my eyes,
You are there,
When I dream of you,
Your presence fills my heart.
But now you are gone,
The Lord has taken you away,
Your spirit and your love,
Are angels in the mist.
Long ago you stepped into my world,
You fed my mind,
And held me tight,
Throughout our years of gold.
So when the wind blows,
Your love floats back to me,
I cherish all you are,
Like flowers in the Spring.
Patience can be an unruly monster, especially when you want something bad enough. Like success or wanting to see the final product of something you’re writing or making. You want it now. I think if one is normally an impatient individual, then that comes second nature to them. They will rush through to get something done. Maybe they need a reminder to slow down.
The project will get finished. It isn’t easy. Trust me on this one. I am a very impatient person, and I have to remind myself frequently to take my time.
So, slow down. Take a deep breath. Think of the end result and know it will be even better because you will have taken your time.
I sat on the beach and counted grains of sand,
but then the wind took them
and they flew from my hand,
perhaps I should refrain,
from acting in disdain,
some things should not be counted
just enjoyed from day to day.
The little things that worry crawl and bite like ants,
but then a shoe stomped them
and they fell from my pants,
perhaps I should rely,
on Jesus not the lie,
because He is the only one
to help me when I cry.
By L. M. Montes
If you are serious about writing a novel, novella, a book of short stories or poems; create a goal for yourself for each day. They say in order to create a habit, one must do the same thing for 21 days (maybe longer depending on the individual). Write everyday and hit the goal you set for yourself. Eventually, sitting down to write will become second nature.
However, it’s tough sitting down to a blank screen because, when this happens, many times the mind goes blank as well. Help your mind out by creating some stimulation for it. Again, we’re all different, so the type of stimulation will be different for everyone. Maybe music will get your mind going, or even the television in the background. Whatever works for you. Or, just start writing what comes to mind. This gets those wheels turning as well. Before you know it your fingers will be flying across the keyboard.
I stand before a hall with many gateways,
deciding which to choose grips hold my mind,
waiting to pounce life’s lioness awaits,
or could it be the love of one so kind.
Decisions rock on waves so vast and fraught,
just open one and peer inside to see,
so in I walk without thinking or thought,
’twas a lioness charging after me.
I spun to run the door it laughed and shut,
revealing darkness shadows playing and such,
a light beamed round a corner calling out,
so I followed but found the light of doubt.
perhaps if I had thought decisions through,
I would have gained a love so great and true.
Mist arises from a grave unknown here,
tickling my mind so curiously,
then winds of thought spread far yet hovers near,
covering beauteous scents tapping me.
The sun lifts high and pulls the mist away,
and now grass sparkles on the brink of day,
flowers spotted diamonds of morn’s soft dew
are natures way of mixing its perfume.
A tiny cold nips at the finger tips,
while the sun prickles with warming tickles,
and the ocean of skies set forth the dyes
of bluish color hues as if on cue.
But alas a cloud of gray comes rushing
with storm winds pelting and rains a gushing.