:: Monday, November 08, 2004 ::

Writing.

It has tortured me these past few years. Suddenly it as if a floodgate has been opened. Not in the sense that great literature is forcing its way out of my fingertips at record speed, but just in the sense that ideas are swelling. Not multiple, fleeting ideas... but specific ones. Lingering ones. Dare I say... good ones?

For the first time ever, a character has found me. Swept up a room in my head and set up house there, persistently. Eviction notices thrown out. She's there for the long haul.

Who knows. Maybe in a few years time I'll have a story worth sharing.

*buzzes with excitement*


~song~ Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine

:: Katy 1:26 a.m. [+] :: ::