I have a great new work in progress. It’s something I’m really excited about and that I think will be the most fun to write.
Sadly, I really wish it would write itself. I mean, not really because I enjoy writing. I love all of it. It’s like reading except I invent it all. But, I’m struggling with just the opening. I know that it doesn’t have to be perfect. I know that it doesn’t have to be anywhere CLOSE to perfect. But, I need it to be right for now. And I’m having a hard time with that.
Writing is like that for me. It’s feast or famine. Like, there are times when I literally cannot do anything else. That I just have to write. That my constant companion is either a notebook or my computer is never far from my fingers, but then there are times when my brain can’t concentrate on anything than the 140 characters Twitter uses. And if you follow me on Twitter you know that it isn’t really all that exciting when I do tweet.
So, I want to write. I want to write this awesome story about a girl and fandom and comic books. I want to write about cosplay and overbearing parents and a sister that lies as easily as she breathes.
And sometimes the words come and sometimes they stay locked in my head. So, I try to write anyway. I take any amount of words that get down on paper on these days as good. All words are good words. Editing and revisions fixes so much.
So, it’s okay.