Youth is wasted on the young...

I'm sitting in my office, trying desperately to think of something to blog about this morning, when my kid comes in. She spent the night at her best friend's house and obviously drove home in her PJs.

"Morning, Mom," says kid.

I glance at the clock on the computer to verify that it is before noon. "You're pretty chipper for it being morning. Have fun last night?"

Kid grins. "We didn't even sleep. We stayed up talking all night and saw the sun rise. It was a blast!"

All of a sudden I'm tired. I begin to think of the things I could have accomplished had I not wasted those eight hours last night sleeping. I could work on my current novel. I could clean the living room. I could organize my office. I could fold laundry... well, maybe not the laundry.

Of course, the kid did none of that. At 17, she did what most teenage girls do... she talked about boys. And high school. And college. She swore her allegiance to her BFF and (I'm sure) complained about her unfair, uncool parents.

Are you wondering how this relates to writing? We, as authors, need to live more like those 17 year old girls. We need to remember seeing the sun rise with our best friend. Talking about boys. The feeling of the future being whatever we want it to be. Those are powerful experiences, powerful emotions, powerful feelings. And the memories are never as vibrant as the actual event.

Authors, however, need to remember those feelings in order to describe them. I'm not sure that is something which can be taught. You either know how to use the language to convey a feeling or you don't.

Don't you agree????

Blessings!

Nichole