Scribbling Madly

I have begun writing again. Let me clarify – I began writing(again) about a year ago. The last book I wrote….well, it didn’t go fabulously, but that was a very long time ago. The one I’m writing now will likely not go any better (perhaps I should have stuck with the poetry – I’d like to think I was good at that), but it’s an outlet for me. I love the writing. I love the expression and creativity (thank God my girls help bring out that creativity). Don't get me wrong, I love my blogging, but I don't feel the drive and creativity I feel when I write, which is why I don't do it so often). I drive myself mad in the process however. I write a chapter and as I’m writing the subsequent chapters, I keep finding my mind wandering back and rewriting the previous chapters. I’m sure I’m making it take much longer than it needs to by doing that, but, as always, I am my own worst critic (I hope). Lately I have been writing fast and furiously, though I know that will come to an end and I will go through a period of severe roadblock. Such is life. Such is the process. I find that things flow the best when I am tucked in my little balcony at Willow, waiting to count. Ideas will come bashing their way through, way too quickly to write them down and leaving me shaking my head and wondering why they never come when I have the tools to utilize them. It’s that Murphy bastard again. Murphy’s Law takes a hold of my life every single day it seems, and someday I vow to find the source of his power and rip it viciously away from him. Until then, I remain, with my hands poised over my keyboard and my flash drive blinking away at me expectantly.