Stories, Perfect Timings, Stonehenge and Other Mystical Entities

J and B are insistent I start writing my novel.  They ask me every time we meet if I've begun yet and every time I reply that I haven't.

I've explained to them about being caught up and entangled in my own net of doubt, fear and ...this novel, this story is my Stonehenge.

Years ago when L and I had been seeing each other for a year or two we went on holiday together to Cornwall.  On the drive back he took me to see Tintagel and Stonehenge knowing I was obsessed with all things King Arthur, Morgan Le Fey, Lancelot and Excalibur.  As we sat outside the protective fencing he asked me if given the chance to touch the mystical stones whether I would. 

I said no. 

He was understandably confused. 

I explained; I wouldn't touch it for fear of it losing its magic.  As it was, untouched by me, it still had it and held power for me.  If I were to touch it and feel nothing, no thrumming of power, no spark of something magic and undefinable, no mystery...I would be devastated.  I would lose a part of myself, a part of my childhood, a part of my imagination, a part of my dreams and dare I say it a part of my future just by having to admit Stonehenge was nothing more some really big stones left over from some bygone era. 

So, while I remained outside the fence and it remained untouched inside the fence I could keep my dreams, my fantasies, my smiles and the magic intact.

My novel has been a little like that for some time.

I think about it a great deal. I envision scenes unfolding before my eyes, hear dialogue in my head, anticipate reactions to events and feel emotions that I know fit with my protagonist all the time...but still I don't write.

Still I keep putting it off.

Still I shy away from taking the plunge.

What am I waiting for?...The time to feel right.

I'm waiting for that spark to flare inside of me that tells me everything is as it should be; the time is right, the story is ready to unfurl and bloom, my protagonist is ready to be born and introduced to the world and I have no other distractions, either impending or real, to contend with.