One night, after returning home from playing a regular-season orchestra performance, I had an undeniable urge to sit down at my computer and write. It was 10pm. I did all the things you hear that writers do to set “the stage” — I lit a candle, made a cup of tea, and put out a bowl of cookies.
Then I opened the lid to my small, blue Toshiba computer. I began to write. Words flowed out of me until 2am. This became my habit for six months until the first rough spew of a book sat in a neat stack on the table next to me. That book, a time travel story, poured onto the page from out of nowhere. As if from another lifetime. I’d never written anything before. “What the heck just happened?” I asked myself.
That six-month-long spark ignited my nighttime writing habit. Eventually, that habit shifted to the morning hours. Since then, I’ve written nearly every day as the sun rises.
I’ve authored two memoirs so far, and I hope that the words keep flowing for a few decades more!
Music will always be my first love. But writing has given me a gift I never expected — a second creative passion. How lucky am I?
Carol Rich Writes 