Sort of bemused today. For the third consecutive day, a stranger approached me in La Bean as I write. Each said something along the lines, "You look so happy and relaxed, leaned back in your chair and typing, with a little smile on your face."
My writing friends told me the same last night. I'd encountered one as I completed my writing session last Sunday, seeing her and her husband as I was leaving the coffee shop. She told me she watched me last Sunday day as I talked to myself, typed and laughed. She wanted to know what I was doing, if that's when I was finishing the novel, because I seemed so pleased and happy.
I couldn't honestly reply to any of them what makes me so pleased and happy except that I'm sitting here, writing like crazy, engrossed in the stories and words. Sometimes I take breaks, though, post to R2, and read what others have posted in Red Room. Those always give me a kick and provides the virtual company of other writers.
So what can I tell them? I'm happy and relaxed because I'm leading the writer's life, 'toiling' at my chosen art and communicating with other writers, sharing in their lives and sharing my life with them. I can only wish that others can find such joy and happiness in what they do.
Causes Michael Seidel Supports
Kiva, Women's International League for Peace and Freedom, Propublica.org, Doctors Without Borders, GreaterGood.com