Dear B,

Yesterday we went for a long walk together through your neighbourhood, admiring the panoramic view of the city below, moving swiftly to keep warm and talking even faster – we had nine months of news to catch up on.

And then you told me a secret.

All these months of hibernation and contemplation had germinated a seed within you. A whole world took shape in your imagination. At first, you didn’t know what it was or what to do with this flickering flame of an idea. You had imagined a world wherein an epic series of stories unfolded in layers that would roll out over many years. I listened quietly, envious of that giddy feeling one gets when the muse visits and ideas are fresh, unblemished by editing or writer’s block, nebulous and not yet fully formed, like a tightly furled dandelion, something pure, unadulterated by doubt, despair or the unsolicited opinions of others; not yet a threat to your energy, your soul or your relationships. Ah, the sweetness of a new idea!

I wanted to share with you right then and there everything I’ve learned in almost ten years of writing, but our bodies were freezing and darkness was descending. So, in case we don’t have the chance to walk again anytime soon, here’s everything I know about writing so far, in a top ten list my friend Cat and I compiled last winter for a speech we gave to the Niagara-on-the-Lake Writer’s Circle. I hope it gives you a bit of encouragement for the adventure ahead.