I am knee-deep in writing a book.
Well... it's more like an outline. And maybe just up to my ankles. Or one ankle.
This is lonely shit. Writing a book-slash-outline has to be the loneliest job, and it's an immense amount of work. I give props to my author friends that have been successful, have published, and still have their hair. Right now, my book is a lifeless bunch of ideas until the moment it isn't - and as a writer, I am hoping that moment comes. It's as if I can smell the book before I can see it. I know it's in me; I just need to write until I find it. I'm not entirely sure if I'm intuitive or irrational, or even if those things are different. I just know I can't drag this book into existence; it has to drag me.
Step 1: open a Word doc
Step 2: give it a name
Step 3: eat the M&Ms
Words of encouragement are welcomed. NO, REALLY. I'm begging.
