Writing as refuge

I’ve become nostalgic as the end of my first year of residency approaches. This post is from a journal entry during medical school. Since it is the weekend before an exam, my mind, naturally, has turned towards writing. I plotted the first book of a series that I hope to someday actually WRITE. [This would be the Rim Chronicles, bane/love of my life.]

So far, it looks like it may be three books, but there are so many side-stories that I may end up having a collection of short stories of prologues and side adventures.

In terms of writing landscape, I take Tolkien as a role model: a writer who meticulously researched, who had a historical basis for his work and painted his landscapes with eyelash-delicate, if sometimes plodding, detail. Writing makes me feel like I’m in a different “time zone.” It’s a form of meditation, where all the dirtiness of daily life gets wrung out. Here’s a Tiny Buddha article about how writing teaches us to be mindful, sensitive, and gentle with ourselves. It’s a beautiful place, my true refuge.


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