It occurs to me that a good writing session is like a hot date. There’s that anticipation. All day your eyes are flicking to the clock, wondering if it’s almost that time. Dinner. Baths. Bedtime stories, night nights. And then, finally, it’s here. You flip on the computer and wait eons for it to boot up. Find your story. Open it up. Scroll down to where you left off. Pat your hair, think fleetingly, “I wonder if my lipstick is all right?” and then you type your first words of the evening.
I *should* be finishing up my Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse challenge. But I can’t…I’m irresistibly drawn to my demon story. I’m sorry, challenge story. As much as I’m trying to focus on you, my time and attention keeps sliding away to what has become my true obsession. You’re very sweet, challenge story. I care for you very much. But the demon novel and I? We’re in love.