Being a writer on the road by our guest writer, Melanie L. Wells-Alvarado


Being a writer on the road. (June 28th, 2021) by Melanie L. Wells-Alvarado

I don’t see myself as a writer on the road, but the reality is, that I am. I always bring myself with me, thus it never occurred to me that I was on the move.

But, I’ve never had a desk to create my stories on most of my writing now is done on my laptop on a cosy spot at home, or wherever the wind takes me.

Years ago, during my New York City days, I used to sit on the platform waiting for the subway to come by and I would start to write somehow the intense outer noise of the city life created a mask on my thoughts

and I found

silence.

My thoughts began to speed write so I sat down and put them on paper.

There is my train… and away it goes.

My words, were too good to get up and hop on.

I’ll catch the next one…

Many trains came and went and it was not until I was completely satisfied and felt all my writing that I would close the notebook and look up to catch the next train.

I love this vision, my years in New York City,

were the years that set me free. So many misconceptions and labels. I became a writer, something I wanted for such a long time.

I sold my photographs framed alongside poems that I wrote.

I kept a pocket size writing pad with the softest, creamiest paper, a fountain pen with brown ink and a box of 8 brightly colored crayons.

Sometimes I would color my emotions. No words needed.

Other times stories would pop into my mind and the luxury of a bit of brown ink would make them come to life.

I felt extravagant with my writing tools even though they were, simple, inexpensive tools.

I felt rich.

I felt alive.

I felt whole.

And with a giant smile

I walked away from whichever place I was sitting, gliding through life.

I need to move I need to feel free.

Once, I tried on business shirts to apply for a ‘formal corporate job’, right then and there I knew, it was the wrong thing to do. I freaked out and felt totally suffocated by the shirt and what it represented.

Being on the move is my nature It’s in my soul,

dancing with the wind, moving with the water writing here, there, and everywhere.

These days I wake up early.

With laptop in my arms and a cup of coffee with soy milk, I sit and contemplate the beauty of the sunrise. I do love sunrises. I am lucky to have a great view from my small cottage home.

I sit and let thoughts go out, allow words to come in.

Often, I feel that the writing is automatic, I do not premeditate what I will write.

Writing, for me,

is so liberating.

I love that I can do it anywhere.

In New York City I lived on a sailboat with my partner, and we sailed from the city to the Caribbean Islands.

It was magical indeed.

During passages on calm days, I would take out papers, thread and needle and make beautiful, simple notebooks, would use brown craft paper for the inner pages and a thick watercolor paper for the covers.

White ink was perfect for the soft brown of the pages, so, with a new notebook in hand I would write, draw simple patterns and write some more.

During stormy weather lightning flashed and lit the pages, reading was as close to writing as we could get as it was impossible to hold a pen or pencil still.

Allowing myself to say that I am a writer has made a huge difference in my writing life. I feel stronger, I give myself more time to write and I started a blog 9 years ago

writing sparingly at times and more at others always having an audience.

I don’t need an anchor for my writing, a tiny corner or nook where I feel comfortable is where I write best.

Writing is with me ALL the time.

May you always allow yourself to find your PERFECT writing place.