Well, writing as a career used to seem akin to searching for a unicorn. I now understand that anyone can write. Even if you don’t consider yourself a “writer,” writing can change your life. The most difficult part of writing is starting and sometimes we don’t know where to begin. Start with the word “Yellow” or start with “blue” or “Lilacs” or “Running”. Who cares. Just start. And, no matter where you start, you never know where you will end up.
But really, why yellow?
Whenever I think of writing a book, I want the first word to be yellow. Yellow leaves? No. Yellow flowers? No. Yellow snow? Oh, I don’t 'know. The word just opens up everything for me, comforts me far more than blue or red or even green. It's the comfort of eating a banana on an empty stomach or knowing that the sun will be there at least as long as I will be here. There is a sense of predictability and awe that this colour shows up so brilliantly in all seasons. There is something elegant and simple about it. But then, there is the side of yellow that seeps from our armpits, wounds and orifices. It is the stinky, gross, inevitable colour of human existence that none of us can escape from but we try to hide all the same. There you have it. There is no perfect word to begin a story but you can, if you want, begin with yellow.