Did I miss another day? I might have.
The door closed on me again. It was wide open and happy and all sorts of amazing things came through for a while. I sat in front of the computer last night and couldn’t produce a thing. There’s no such thing as writer’s block. There is such a thing as the closed door. My story has no direction and the characters are as tasteless as water. That’s okay. It’s good to just write.
There’s a scene waiting to happen. It’s not pivotal but it is stressing me out. People have to fight and treat each other stupidly. I don’t want them to get hurt (yes, I’m aware, fiction). What if what we write is happening for real somewhere? Did you ever wonder that? What if we are writing a scene in which the lovers lose each other and somewhere, inexplicably, the lovers part in the real world and both are torn and wondering why it happened and they’ll never know that one casual key stroke ended a thing that by all means should never have ended.
What if it’s true?