Sometimes silence is beneficial, in order to listen for that still, small voice. Maybe it’s for creativity to move deeper into the soul, maybe it’s for reflection and introspection. What ever it is, there are times when silence is needed, to stop and not just smell the roses, but to ponder on their beautiful creation, to examine the petals in all of their complexity. Roses are in bloom all around us, in every season, even though humanity frequently looks right passed the source of their potent beauty.
My silence on my blog is attributed to a much needed time of silence in my life, to enjoy the rich bountiful rose garden I have been blessed with, namely my family and friends. They have all labored in understanding and friendship during the many years it has taken me to ink this creation, Abyss of the Fallen.
Even in silence, I was not gone from the muse of my mind, for during the drought of my blog, I found myself tackling re-writes, which admittedly I had felt that I would never have to do. I long since have chalked this up to naivety, to not fully understanding a craft which will take me a lifetime to perfect, if even then.
It was only in silence that I was able to hear the voices of my literary children better. Removing my thoughts to allow theirs to move in the freedom they sought, their voices rang truer in my mind, and I was able to hear their story in the way it should be told. It was only in my solitude that my characters found a solace for their existence. Speaking as a fantasy writer, they were pleased when I gave them full reign of their own story, without interjecting my own course for their direction.
I once heard, ‘if your characters do not become family to you, then you are not writing.’ This is very much true for me, and like all families, each person is unique and should have the freedom to live the life they were meant to live. It is in my quiet times of prayer, that the gift of silence is more potent, when the rose garden smells the most poignant, for my mind goes to each of the miracles in my life, my children. In silence I sit, and I think of their own course of life and how little I can interject or should interject upon them the direction that I want for their lives. In silence I listen, in silence I wait, and in silence I feel stronger in Who is guiding, leading, and directing the course of their lives.
While I claim authorship for my characters, I do not claim authorship for the gift of silence, for the gift of the rose garden, whose petals I have been blessed to hold in my hands, but the biggest blessing is knowing in Whose hand everything is held. I know like the ink which flows out of my pen, like my fingers which tap the keys, I am here to guide and correct my characters' story onto the page, as well as guide and correct my children with their lives. I will continue to let silence be golden, listen to that still small voice, and let creativity shine through onto their paths, while praying that the Creator who holds everything will move deeper into their souls.