Sharing Sunday

In an effort to inspire me to write in my writer’s notebook more and to become more open about sharing what I write, I have created Sharing Sunday. Each Sunday, from here on out, I will be sharing something from my writer’s notebook with you. It may be a first draft that needs much revision, it may be a polished copy. I will share what I write and I will share the process. So, let’s get started shall we?

And this is to help me be a better writer.

This is a rough draft of something I was writing one day when I really missed France. It needs some work, but that’s part of the process, non?

On occasion, when the days shift from hot to cool and the nights grow longer and this great prairie sky is littered with stars, I’m struck with a homesickness. I long for a land and a culture that are not my own. I miss the rain, la pluie, and the the slick cobblestone streets. I can almost smell the warm yeast as the boulanger sets out his buttery pain au chocolats. I can see them as I ride up the escalator, out of the hot, moist, sweaty tunnels under the city, the euro coin that will secure my breakfast in my pocket.

The damp cold that sinks into your bones and leaves you with a permanent sense of melancholy is gone and it’s left a happy hole in its place. This hole has become a gaping wound some days and all I want to do is speak francais and walk around the city square and maybe take a cafe with speculoos. And the thing is that personne peux jamais savoir.

This is actually a picture of the place I was missing, Lille, France.