*note* this and the following blog were written in the Olympic National Forest and significantly out of internet range.
I am sitting near the shores of Crescent Lake in Washington and realizing that a number of writers have come this way, seen the beauty, and rooted their stories in this space. Perhaps I am going to be the next to do so. The beauty of the space is undeniable. The calm of the space is so encouraging that I was excited to be able to come back to the page and write about it. I love being here. I love that I can be at the shore staring into crystal waters and moments later be so deep in forest that I cannot see anything but trees and undergrowth. It is a powerful location; one that the first people viewed as sacred and one that I must as well.
All of this is to say that inspiration is my topic for these ten minutes. A writer without inspiration is a writer winding down the clock of their literary existence. We cannot write without having that fuel that fires us. We must find inspiration in our own ways. It may be place or situation—even desperation. Many athletes rely on their physical craft to get them out of their dead-end living situations. Many artists are the same. I believe writers are no different. If you are hungry—if you are desperate—you are encouraged to pour your soul down the tip of that pen or out the end of your fingers on to a waiting keyboard and let the world feel your want and your message.
Like a double-edged sword, inspiration has a second side—it is also a promise. If you are inspired you are then required to use that inspiration and turn it into something of value; even if only to yourself and even if only a stepping stone to a greater project or realization. In short, do not waste what inspires you, because inspiration is temporary and fleeting.
I am inspired. I do not mean to waste that. I expect to write hard over these next few days and weeks and produce work that is worth reading.