“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird; it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” ~ C. S. Lewis (Thanks to the Passive Voice blog for the quote.)
This summer, for me, has been a time of being an egg. I’ve been revising a novel but not actively writing much of anything new, and for much of the summer I didn’t write at all. Instead, I played with two brand new baby birds—my newborn twin granddaughters.
I am enthralled by everything they do and the single-minded way they approach life. Never have I seen such voracious eaters, such ability to sleep soundly despite noises and activity around them, or such intense fascination with light and shadow. They are attentive to the pictures in the books I read to them, and they practice every conceivable facial expression as if preparing for every emotion they might ever feel and need to display throughout their lives. In a few days we will introduce them to Sunset Beach, where we will show them sunsets over the marsh, dip their toes into sand and salt-water, pass them around from relative to relative, and tell them tales of their Daddy’s first trip to the beach.
The Writer’s Desk will be back soon, I promise. We’ll start with a guest post by a teacher/writer friend, both on how she’s passing on her love of writing to her middle-school students and how she balances the responsibilities of teaching with her need to write. Then, I’ll share a little about my transformation from a decent egg and learning to fly as a writer.