If you're a writer, you know that burning passion that sweeps over you as you put words on a page, as characters come to life beneath your fingers, as worlds take shape in your head.
But what happens when the fire dies? Now, I don't particularly believe in writer's block. But I know from personal experience that the fire can burn down to a few glowing embers. I know that, "Oh, my God" moment of thinking it's all over. I'm not a writer, after all. I just got lucky for a while.
So, what do we do to keep the fire burning, to keep that flame alive? I know what I do. I write. I write anything--a letter, an essay to express my frustration with the cable company, a short-story I know I'll never publish, a journal entry about my fear of losing the fire.
It's primitive, this thing with fire. Ever since someone, eons ago, picked up two rocks and struck them together, watching the spark flare in dry grass and become something so vital.
It's like that for us. We strike words against one another, rub them till they're white hot, watch for that spark. You never know exactly when it's going to happen, and it's a thrill each time it does.
If you've ever camped out, you know the fire dies down in the night. You have to feed it, coax it with a gentle breath, protect it from whatever will dampen it, nurture it along until it flares again.
You d0 what you must to keep the fire burning, to keep that passion alive--the passion to create, to bring a smile to a reader's face, to touch a heart that's felt the same pain your character feels, to find hope in the world you create.
Now, go--write something!