It’s not easy most of the time, ya know. There’s sentence structure (sentence diagramming used to be so fun in high school! not so much now); there’s grammar (dangling participle sounds kinda kinky, don’t it?); there’s plot (that elusive thing that carries the book from Chapter One to The End); and then there’s such oddities as character, setting, climax (speaking of kink…) and genre.
But despite all that (and more) I really really love being an author. I want to write. I want to take that dreamworld I’ve invented in my head and make it real enough in words on paper that you, someone not in my head (thank god!) can see it too.
I’m working on too many things again. One day I feel like working on Simple Sarah (the piece I’ve been working on for FIVE years) or Sleep (formerly called Exodus, my ’09 NaNoWriMo project) or, as I discovered today, I feel like working on a Butch Girl novel (of which there are 3 in progress) (yes, three). Then there is Wayback. I want to revive it for my niece while she is young enough to enjoy it. And then there’s the short stories I really ought to find a publication for.
It feels good to be writing again. It is like meeting an old friend and chatting about all the stupid stuff we did in college.