Writing in Georgia

It's interesting . . . since I murdered my inner critic I have found myself actually wanting to write, thrilling to write. I don't want to do anything BUT write! I'm trying to understand what it was about that nasty woman living inside my head that made me lose the joy that made me want to write in the first place. I'm not sure if it's the lack of an internal critic or the lack of expectations from a publisher, but I feel absolutely 100% free to write whatever the heck I want.

I love this feeling. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm going to use it while I've got it. I was on an airplane today for about six hours and spent almost every moment I was allowed writing. I ended up with about sixteen hand-written pages, just rambling notes that help me figure out the direction I want my story to go, and interestingly enough, I'm working on the same story I didn't want to work on for anyone else. I knew I was stubborn, but that's a little ridiculous. I know there will be times I have to write what the publisher wants, like finishing a series or some other crazy concept, but for today and tomorrow and the rest of this week, I'm going to write whatever catches my fancy and I'm going to love every moment of it.

So, if anybody wonders where I may have wandered off to, I'm in Georgia writing my heart all over the page. Hey, what better way to spend a week's vacation is there?

Quote of the Day: "Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

~William Wordsworth