Well humans, here we are. Part of me wants to blame American's for this but the rest of humanity has allowed us to get here. Another part of me wants one of these. I'm torn between being totally appalled and wishing it was more affordable ($6400.00).
Saturday, October 1, 2011
I'm ashamed to admit that I seem to have misplaced my Mojo. I haven't written anything of consequence in a couple of years. I've finally gotten comfortable enough to call myself a writer and now I can't seem to do it. I am in the midst of trying to force myself to write (for the umpteenth time!). It ain't workin'.
I have a novel planned out in my head and it's filled with people I like. Why aren't they talking to me? Why aren't they pushing me to tell the story? I depend on them. I need them.
Is it possible that they need me? Do I have to reach inside of my mind and pull something out? That's not the way it's worked to this point. The characters tell me what to write, not the other way around. Maybe now that I've hit middle age, I have to do things backwards.
Reach inside. Reach inside. Reach inside.