A few days after I finished the first draft of a book — for the first time in more years than I’m ready to admit — I started writing another story.
I’m not sure I could have stopped it from happening even if I’d tried. And I certainly would not recommend anyone do this. Heck, I wish I hadn’t. I know my brain needed more rest, and I’m doing the best I can to make sure it still gets as much as time will allow.
But it happened. It’s still happening. The story I’ve temporarily set aside isn’t finished yet. But I have, I’m hesitant but not embarrassed to say, already fallen in love with another.
This is the way of creativity. Sometimes the sky is dark. Sometimes it lights up with color, and you have no choice but to reach up and touch it.
There is something different about…
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