You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you. I promised you postings about my trip to Rome, and then I fell silent for five months.
I have a confession to make. I’m not really sure how to tell this story.
Maybe it’s a superstition, but there is this theory among writers that stories have energy. Those who believe this will not discuss a project before its completion, because its inherent energy is lost in the telling, lost before that energy can be translated onto the page.
I’m not sure what I believe. I have, indeed, lost momentum on projects after sharing my ideas with a friend or fellow writer. Some of these projects eventually saw completion. Some fell dead in the water. Lifeless. Spent.
I still feel the energy of Rome. After all this time. What if I tell you…and then it’s gone?
Perhaps that is the real root of my silence.
Perhaps you will think I’m overly sentimental.
Perhaps you will think I’m just nuts.
Perhaps not.
Time will tell, I guess, and you will either continue to visit Simon Says or you will drift quietly away.
I hope you will stay.
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P.S. Yes, this is an old-fashioned room key...not a swipe card. And yes, the concierge pulled this key from a wall of cubbies, each cubby for a different room in the hotel. I have to say, I felt a bit like a stand-in for a James Bond film (only without the stillettos and the double D's).
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