I have written a true story because, as the saying goes, it can be stranger than fiction. That one story was, and the only word absent from it, the one I wished I had used was 'infatuation' because it was mine about her.
The rest of the time, there is a spark during an encounter that flourishes, or something from the past I wished I did or did differently.
My heroine said this: We write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely...When I don’t write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing.”
I have not written anything for a month, and her last sentence is so true now, I feel something vital is missing. Just write, true or not.