The Hardest Thing...

About writing, is the act of writing.  The physical act of scratching at paper with a pointy object, or pecking out things on a keyboard, can be a daunting task, something a lot harder than I envisioned it when I was twelve-ish and started thinking about a writing future.  At the time (and even through my Undergraduate experience) I thought it would be something I would do "one day" in the future, but couldn't really articulate how.  There was always some mystery to the experience, and even now there is still some.

Ideas come, like someone drunk at a New Year's Eve party, and kiss you passionately for the brief few seconds you're together before they disappear from the party (or worse, you run home remembering that the car you arrived in will turn back to a lemon).  Ideas can come from channel or internet surfing, or from snippets of conversations and relived experiences.

Ideas are also like matches - hot and bright in a flash, but quickly burning themselves out.  But finding the right idea - the right match - will last long enough to be used with some kindling, then some tinder, and later some logs to build a solid fire.

That's what I have come to see as the hardest thing, right now, is finding the right match for me, and seeing the fire it might become.