There are Many Things I’d like to write about today. And most of them are rather large.
I’m writing an epic fantasy trilogy about faith, love, and zombies.
I’m writing a sci-fi novel about interstellar wormholes and MMO empires.
I’m writing a novella about a girl growing up in a place that hates what she is.
I’m writing a short story about subterranean Olympians.
With Many Things comes Choice. And Choice asks me, “What do you feel like writing?”
It’s a devilish question. I can’t figure out what I’d like to do. Every moment of my life I have fleshy urges that push me in one direction or pull me from another. When I ask that question during writing-time, it does little more than distract.
Then I remember what Koheleth said about it:
“Whatever your hand finds to do with your might, do it.”
That reminds me that whatever I find to do, I might as well do it. But there’s another way to translate that line:
“Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.”
That reminds me to see whatever it is trough to the end. And the conclusion reminds me of the stakes:
“Because there is no working or planning or knowledge or wisdom in the grave to which you are going.”
One day I won’t exist, like I didn’t before I was born. So I might as well do something, and do it well, while I have the chance.