A few days ago, I was reading through blogs and read about a little thing some people were doing on WordPress and the prompt for them the other day was, “I opened the door” or something of that nature. They were then to continue on and write for about 200 words, I believe, to make it a short story. I wasn’t interested in joining into the group or whatever it was but the prompt stuck in my head.
That night, I tossed and turned with the prompt running through my head. It wasn’t the first time I lay awake at night with thoughts circulating up there nor was it the first time I had an idea in the night. Most of the time, I will get an idea and start working it out and “writing” it inside my head. But the other night was different. My mind kept hearing, “I opened the door and there it was.” Then my mind stalled on me. I visualized a door but behind it, there was nothing. I simply could NOT see what was behind the door but I knew there was something. Something that I could not know until I got to the computer and started typing. Even now, as I write THAT, it sounds crazy to me but it’s the honest truth.
So I put WordPress on to full screen and told myself, “Here goes, I will not look at another page until I feel like what’s hidden inside me is released.” I wrote the words, “I opened the door and there it was.” Right as I wrote those words, I suddenly knew it was a package. I had no clue, though, who received the package, who gave it, why they gave it, or what was in it. But I just kept typing as if someone or something was telling me the next sentence as I would finish the previous. I was so completely “out of the loop” as to what I was writing and where it would go, but I never once felt worried that the words wouldn’t come.
Each sentence I wrote was like a revelation to myself. I felt like I was reading a story as I was writing it. It just all flowed more natural than I have ever experienced before. I knew once I got to the end of my short story because my thoughts stopped being clear. The next sentence wasn’t there any longer like it was before. I looked back through the story and wondered where it all came from. I am still lost as to where the words or ideas came from, but I also feel blessed that they came so easily.
But even now, as I was inspired to tell of the process of writing this story, I feel like the story is not complete yet. I feel like the story is just waiting for me to continue with it, but I also think the rest is not meant for my blog. I think my short story was simply the start of a bigger tale inside me that wants to be told. Could I possibly actually have a book inside me when I figured I would never have the motivation or the anti-procrastination I needed to take that step?
I’m not sure. All I know is that what I experienced as I wrote “The Secret Package” the other night was unlike anything I have ever felt before. My writing felt like it had a strong purpose and my fingers felt an overwhelming urge to get it all out on paper…or blog. Right now, I feel like the story is calling out to me to continue it and give it the ending it so rightly deserves.
AND the title because I don’t think “The Secret Package” is the right one. I couldn’t seem to come up with one, actually. The title was the ONE thing about the story I went blank on, but now I am thinking it’s because the title can’t be added until the rest of the story is told.