Musings on the Art of Writing

As a child, I discovered fantastic worlds created in books. When I began writing about the worlds of my own imagination, I realized how hard authors work to set their characters free to live for our enjoyment. This blog will explore that weird and wonderful process.

Friday, April 20, 2012

Golf and Inner Peace

Today, we golf at our favourite Calgary course, Silverwing.  It is a links-style course with prairie grasses and great views of the city.  The flags are little windsocks so you know you're close to the airport.  It is a challenging course for someone who is transitioning between beginner and intermediate golfer.  I love it.  Usually.

Today, I am still hacking with my cough and I am not up to walking nine holes (see Golf is a Good Walk Spoiled) which usually takes us two hours.  I just don't have the energy and frankly, I'm not as excited to play as my hubby.  I know I'll enjoy the day but it will also exhaust me.  For the first time, I'm actually going to rent a power cart to do nine holes.  My hubby will be shocked but it may save the day for me.

Golf is a game of many facets and can be played by those of every shape and size.  Last weekend, Carl Pettersson, a hefty individual won against much thinner golfers in the RBC Heritage tournament.  Fred Couples played the Masters the week before and held his own against far younger players.  The game has a way of tapping inner resources.  I hope to tap mine today.

Usually I have had weeks of yoga, walking, and weightlifting done before I swing a club but due to my illness and travel, today, this is not the case.  I should be worried but I'm in a strange state of calm.  This outing just doesn't count in my mind.

I also now feel this 'inner peace' in my writing.  I've tried for years to attract the attention of publishers and have failed.  I realize I probably lack the 'magic' to create a blockbuster but I can't stop writing so what is the solution?  Self-publishing.  It has freed my spirit.  No longer do I worry about pleasing an editor or an agent.  No, I think of my reader and write for them knowing my story will make it into print.  If it sells, fine.  If not, I have a legacy to pass onto my family.  My mother gave us her paintings; I give my books.  So finally, I'm at peace with who I am.  I write, therefore I'm a writer.

No comments:

Post a Comment