The Return

I’ve finally found a story to start. It happened just the other day.
Like a star bursting in my head, it started out like an explosion, all ahh’s and oohh’s, then came the crashing sound of thunder as the implication finally settled: I was writing again, truly writing. I had a story and everything!
I was happy for a while then came the other realization that I, now, had to finish the story.
Out of the pan and into the fire, as they say.
But, I wasn’t worried(for the most part).
I had made myself a promise (again) that this was going to be the story that I finished-come Hell or High water and, I mean to keep this promise. This time.
It is a heady thing to write a story. You have to commit yourself to a lifetime of long hours with just you and your your thoughts and, sometimes that’s not an easy thing to do. You can’t hide from your thoughts, they are with you always and, show you your worse and best whenever they feel like it. I know of very few people who would freely want to be alone in a room with their own thoughts, and woe be to you if you try to avoid them.
They just come at you harder and faster, like windmills in a storm.
So with that in mind, we, as writers, sit, and we write.


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