I talk a lot about the negative side of writing, the work part… you know, the struggle. I thought I should just take a moment to comment on how freaking thankful I am to be blessed with the storytelling gene.
Writing is ecstatic intoxication. It is surreal and wonderful and fulfilling in every way imaginable (except financially, but that’s for another blog). Brutal? Unforgiving? Yes, it is all that too, and more, but truthfully, there’s an almost indescribable elation that comes from stringing words together, from building worlds and giving life to characters, from sitting before a blank page and then filling it with nothing but your imagination.
I just felt like I needed to say that.
For all the misery and heartbreak and soul sucking excrement you have to put up with, it’s all worth it.
Words are everything. Especially when they’re yours.