It's doggone cold out there today. Tomorrow too. I'm not going to rant and rave about how much I dislike winter, though. Nope, I'm just using the cold as a segue way into snow.
For the record, I'm not much of a fan of snow either, but that's really beside the point. The point is I recently had the opportunity while sitting in my car to inspect the snow that insisted on falling from the sky. Perfect little crystals splayed themselves across my wind shield.
And that's when I noticed.
The vast majority of the snowflakes were mutants. Missing an arm or leg, frozen at an awkward angle with another snowflake. Most were far from perfect.
There were a few perfect ones, and they were stunning.
Ever the fan of odd analogies, let me connect the dots for you and make this a writing thing.
Those snowflakes are our words and our manuscripts.
Not every word has to be perfect. Mother Nature isn't perfect, but she's persistent, and so should we be.
It's great to strive for perfection, but sometimes we just need to push forward and write those deformed words down. You can dress them up later (like making a snowman), but you can't do anything unless you have to have something to do it to.
I wish for all of you to write like a blizzard!