"It's good to see you writing again."
That's what my wife said to me before she went to bed last night. I was surprised; when she said it I was sitting here at my computer working on softlinking my most recent node and starting the research for the next ones. When I asked her what she meant, she pointed at my browser, where my scratchpad was displayed.
"It's good to see you writing again."
I hadn't really thought of my noding as "writing." Writing for me has always involved hunching over a notebook, the tip of my fountain pen flying across the paper, trying to keep up with the words and images in my head. The words used to flow, almost without conscious effort on my part. And for a long while, I haven't been able to squeeze any words out of the images. Writer's block, I suppose. The last several times I've tried, I sat there with pen poised, but the page remained pristine. And I don't try very often any more.
"It's good to see you writing again."
After she went to bed, and for much of the day today, I kept thinking about her words. I realize now the feeling I get when I'm pounding out a node, even a factual that's required two weeks of research, is exactly what I used to feel when I was sitting with pen and paper, scrawling out scenes and dialog until my hand cramped, then stretching the fingers, popping the knuckles, and cranking out some more. It's a good feeling, a rush I'd all but forgotten, a feeling of creation.
"It's good to see you writing again."
It's good to be writing again. Perhaps it's time to buy (or even make) a new notebook, dust off the pens, and see what comes out. Whatever happens, her words made my day.