I love this time of year.
It’s still early January and the frenetic energy of the holidays has begun to fade. Decorations are coming down in homes, shops, and downtown main streets to leave blank spaces until the next holiday’s trappings arrive.
Where I live it’s winter, so nature cooperates. The vibrant greens of summer have long-since faded to browns and grays. The jewel-toned leaves of autumn have been stripped from the trees and tossed away for another year. The earth has gone dormant. Storms tend to be quiet during this time, serenely peaceful even as they dump inch after inch of snow until the world feels cocooned by a pristine blanket.
Like the pages of my new calendar and planner, everything is blank–waiting for something to emerge as the days gradually unfold.
As a writer, I can appreciate the pure minimalism of emptiness. While sometimes terrifying, a blank canvas–be it a page or freshly fallen snow–signals opportunity and excitement. Rarely do we get such freedom of creativity and expression.
I make sure I always ask myself: Do I have something to say? A story to tell?
Or is the blankness itself enough? Perhaps the void of things, words, and pictures can be its own purest truth.
Perhaps someone, or something else can use that space better than I.
For now, I’m enjoying this newfound year with all its patient possibilities. I’m currently hunkered down to write the third installment in my London Calling series. It will tell the story of Dominic and Natalie–the two doomed lovers from A Matter of Trust. It’s early days, but I expect this to be a favorite. After all, it’s a story about love, loss, redemption.
And new beginnings.
In the meantime, I’m publishing my second book in the series, Losing Angeline. I rewind twenty years to fill in the tale of John and Angeline Sinclair, Devon’s parents from Book One. I found theirs to be an intriguing story with aching hearts and painful secrets.
They are fascinating people with a beautiful life together. I’ll confess I’m reluctant to leave them just yet, so it will be my pleasure to devote the last and final book in my series to them, twenty-plus years from where Book Two leaves off.
As the snow begins to fall gently outside, I’m happy to continue my journey as a writer. I’ll fill in the blank pages before me with the sounds, sights and smells of a country far away.
And as for that white blanket beginning to coat and cover my balcony outside, I think I’ll leave that undisturbed.
Patiently, quietly, I will wait and watch to see what Nature has to offer instead.