Check this guy out. What a loser.
I have stopped writing. It’s been almost two months now. I’ve written a paragraph here and there, but that’s all. My new story haunts me in the night. During the day, it calls out to me. It needs me, its creator, to give it birth. But I refuse its entreaties day after day.
My characters beg me to complete their being, to give them the life they so richly deserve. I brought them into this world and it is not fair to leave them hanging, so to speak.
Why am I not writing? Is it because I don’t know where next to take the story? Or is it that I am just too goddamn lazy to go to work? It’s got to be one or the other—or so I thought. But this morning, I had an epiphany.
I write all my stories in my head before I type the first…
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