cogito ergo doleo

This schedule has left me drained, depleted. Sometimes my muse flees like a rat down dark hallways fast filling with water.

But still I manage. Ploddingly adding a word here, excising one there; editing…an excuse to flex fingers on keyboard.

And then there comes a sudden explosion of inspiration or of something very nearly so:

Rewriting the first several chapters, adding more depth, new characters emerge and demand that they be explored, explained – given stage time, the novel moves in strange new directions. My synopsis goes out the window.

Deadlines and plot be damned. The story begins to write itself; I feel more like a medium than a writer. I begin to believe that the words merely pass through me, from the aether, to you.

Yes, I know I’m weird. I’ve made peace with that.

❤