Growing up, I had many things I loved to do: painting, building castles in my sandbox, running through the sprinklers, or playing with the dog, but what I loved most, was the swing on the apricot tree.
I loved feeling the whoosh of air across my face, imagining what it would it be like to soar over the fence and into the sky.
Sometimes, I would twist around in a circle and let go, watching the world rush by in an unrecognizable blur, but the thing that drew me in, and kept me coming back, was the rhythm.
I loved the unwavering rise and fall of the swing. Something about it was so peaceful, so beautiful, that I would spend hours lost in the world around me.
To me, writing is like that. If done well, there is a rhythm to it, a steady back and forth, that draws you into another world. The story, the characters, everything lives and breathes by the rhythm, the rise and fall, that moves them along. The exciting parts where you discover something new, and the slow parts, reassuring you that things will be okay.
Just like the swing, that is what draws me in, and keeps me coming back for more . . .