Another sucky day...

I've spent the last couple days refining my last novel. It was like visiting a friend I hadn't seen in years. The characters were so happy to come out and play. After doing that, I tried to return to my current project only to find that it's stale. I'm so frustrated that I could scream--or just delete the whole damn file. I know the story premise is solid, and the characters have real potential, but they don't want to play with me. I've cleaned, done laundry and got physical--tonight was a karate night. Usually, I can distract myself enough with random business that ideas spark off in my head. I don't know why it's not working! I've got one last thing to try...

OK, I feel better about the writing now. I scrapped a few pages and it all looks better. Right now, I'm too tired to do any more. I want to read and escape everything for a moment, so that's what I'm going to do. I've been thinking about why I write lately. From the time I could string a thought together, I've enjoyed making up stories. It never mattered which class I wrote for in school, I always approached the assignments with fervor. When my children came along, I told them stories--and they were always my heroes. Now that I'm older, I have more to draw from and while sharing my stories with others in random conversations is fun, there's nothing like actually penning a yarn. A hundred years from now, people may not know my stories or even care about who I was, but in some small way I will have left a legacy of words.

I am off to bed now. My stuffed lion, a good book and my mp-3 player will be my companions. Hopefully, I'll dream of my characters and wake with something of value to offer them. And maybe, just maybe they'll decide to scream. All this damn whispering in making me crazy.