I’ve been writing lots. Yes, lots. Stories bubbling, finding a way to the surface and then breaking over. Nothing that I’m in love with, but enough ideas and characters and stories to at least make me feel productive. I like to see the words take shape on the paper, but then you know that, don’t you?
I’d give you some examples, but they’re still too rough, too raw, too much like open wounds on the page.
So, instead, tell me what you’re working on. You know I live vicariously through you… give it to me, baby.