I'm writing a book.
But some days I don't write and only think about my characters in a forlorn, wistful, ah, if we only spent more time together-kind-of-way.
This writing 'something' process is not how I imagined and I'm reigning in my brain to stop imagining how 'real' life might pan out and keep imagining the imaginary story I want to make real.
This is what I want to do, to write. So why is it so hard?
Well, (me preaching to the choir) just because I want to do it, doesn't mean it will be easy. It just means the motivation for it is often riper and easier to access.
Also - why should it be easy?
Why should anything worthwhile be easy?
Where the heck has that little lie bedded into my thinking?
Like life is easy.
So I think I need to get over that - and get on with the good hard work of making a good life and completing the story for these little friends running around my head.
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