The Black Notebook
Okay, so the people who know me really well...Kathy, Carrie, Johnny C., Pat, Yvonne, Corinne, Cindy and everyone else at Sterlinghouse... are sort of feeling smug right now, but it wasn't that it was always going to happen.
I'm buying a black notebook to write something new.
There, I said it.
Three weeks ago I was adamant...it wasn't going to happen. I was enjoying life without having self-imposed deadlines. I didn't have anything to say anyway, and no one wanted to listen.
And then I got an idea.
I can't say that the idea hit me out of nowhere. It was developed as I struggled to try and say goodbye to my father. It was further enhanced by another tragedy, and of course, that was compounded by trying to battle through the writing of my last book which was also inspired by an earth-shattering tragedy.
Doesn't sound like I'm writing a comedy, huh?
Well...maybe. It's just starting to take shape in my head, and truth be told, when you are waking up in the morning to create, you are so, so, so alive.
Just the realization that I need a black notebook has fired me up.
I've already written the first paragraph.
A fiction story. A lot of work. A much-needed distraction. Given the tentative-title, it might be a short book.
I want to call it: Everything I Know.
I'm buying a black notebook to write something new.
There, I said it.
Three weeks ago I was adamant...it wasn't going to happen. I was enjoying life without having self-imposed deadlines. I didn't have anything to say anyway, and no one wanted to listen.
And then I got an idea.
I can't say that the idea hit me out of nowhere. It was developed as I struggled to try and say goodbye to my father. It was further enhanced by another tragedy, and of course, that was compounded by trying to battle through the writing of my last book which was also inspired by an earth-shattering tragedy.
Doesn't sound like I'm writing a comedy, huh?
Well...maybe. It's just starting to take shape in my head, and truth be told, when you are waking up in the morning to create, you are so, so, so alive.
Just the realization that I need a black notebook has fired me up.
I've already written the first paragraph.
A fiction story. A lot of work. A much-needed distraction. Given the tentative-title, it might be a short book.
I want to call it: Everything I Know.
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