Saturday, September 12, 2009

THE HAWAII MUSE


I’ve been in Hawaii eleven days and I’ve written more in my upcoming Iran memoir than I’ve done in two years.

I don’t understand where the muse goes, why she goes, or why she returns, but return she did and I am so pleased I shant ask any questions.

Every morning my inner clock wakes me at 5 a.m. and I hit the floor ready and excited to get to my computer. A cup of coffee to get the eyes open, place fingers to keyboard and look out at the beautiful Manoa Valley from my view on the fourteenth floor. It’s as though the view is subliminal, causing my fingers to take on a life of their own.

Thoughts of the revolution and the one-and-a-half years I lived in Isfahan, Iran, come flowing forth, sometimes faster than my fingers can keep up with them.

“Whoa!” I say. Wait for me. Then…oh yeah! I remember that, and I’m off, watching my fingers fly over the keyboard while reliving things that happened during the Islamic revolution, thirty-two years ago.

Something bizarre happens when you write a memoir. Your subconscious mind takes you back to the events as if you were living them at the moment. I see myself walking through the Bazaar, haggling with merchants; soaring down a river in a raft while irate men throw stones at me; driving through the beautiful countryside, drinking from an ice-cold stream as it rushes down shimmering rocks from the snow-covered mountains above; watching the mammoth tanks roll into town when martial law was ordered by the Shah.

Well, as you can see, I have much work to do. So, now it’s time to get back to my memoir.

1 comment:

GutsyWriter said...

So good to hear you're writing again. Where are you staying? In a hotel? I just got back from the gulf coast of Florida and loved it. Come take a peek at my last two posts.