In my next life I want to be a middle-of-the-roader, easygoing, practically oblivious would be okay. The up and down of my typical Scorpio personality is greying me before my time and yet the lowest lows are bearable and the highs are ecstasy.
In the midst of Phase III of my writing life–that is, the point where I give it up–I get that little that I seek to keep on plodding into Phase IV which is writing some more. Unfortunately, yesterday’s 9/30 submissions deadline passed while I was in Phase III; today’s encouragement can’t change that missed opportunity. It is enough, however, to get me back into the puzzle of a story I’ve been loving/hating and trying to fit to format where it belongs–it doesn’t seem to know itself so must depend upon me. Which is iffy at best since I’ve been waffling on it for several months.
But Lordy, Lordy, how the brush of fingertips on top of my head can be construed and reconstructed by the mind into a proper pat enough to make the words come out!
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology