It’s late. I’m still awake. I should really be sleeping. The clock chimes. It’s that mellow, resonating sound I remember from my childhood. It’s familiar, even comforting.
My grandpa made clocks for my dad and uncle when they were first married. He has one of them in his own house. I grew up listening to that clock’s chimes. I remember waking up to it on Christmas morning, listening to the chimes as I sat at my grandma’s kitchen table pouring over a new book. Isn’t it funny how a certain sound, smell, or even the sight of something vaguely familiar can produce feelings of comfort and warmth or even bring back a flood of memories?
Do you ever walk over to your bookshelf and just study the covers? Do you ever pull one down and leaf through the pages, searching for that one scene, that one sentence you remember as if you read it yesterday?
Stories are like that. They can make us nostalgic, fire up our imaginations, motivate us, and even point us to something greater than ourselves.
I guess this week I just wanted to remind myself of why I love books and why I love to write. I write to inspire, to give hope, to point to something greater than myself, and to make an impression that will last long after someone closes the pages of my book.
Are you working on a project you just can’t seem to wrap your mind around, something you’re not sure you can accomplish? Remember why you write in the first place. Remember what inspired you, what inspires you now, and don’t give up!