It Wrote Itself

Midnight. This is when I’m at my best. I’ll be at home, readying myself for bed time, when something will come to me. Something brilliant. Then I think some more, and some more. Then I realize I need a pen. Then I scribble furiously, which I’ve been told is unreadable to anyone but me (clearly a secret plan so no one can get famous but me). Then I rest. Inevitably, more comes. This is followed by getting up to write, back down to bed, for as long as it takes, amidst cursing and lights flipping on and off.

It’s all worth it. I’m able to admit that my prose was slightly (baby steps here) droning and worthless in my poor little dream of a novel. Today? WHOLE NEW FIRST CHAPTER. Whole new concept. Fresh ideas. Invigorated spirit, which until now, thought about symbolically printing and burning the entire book (very dramatic, no?). Well, anyway, there you have it. It might not be the worst thing ever any more. No fires.

Who knows? Maybe this gym and eating good and being good and going to church life is pointing me in the write right (writer’s humor for you) direction.

If you’re anything like Mr. MK, you’re thinking, it’s about time. I’ll take that. But come on, I just needed to be INSPIRED.



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