I have one fear in life. No, ok, I have a lot of fears, but the one I struggle with almost daily is, “What if the words run out?”
Now anyone who knows me even remotely well will have laughed when they read that, but I’m not talking about everyday conversation. I’m talking about running out of story words or even out of words for this blog. And yet somehow, every time I sit down and think I’m pretty tapped out, that I have nothing to say, words come out. Then it’s getting them to STOP coming out. Doesn’t sound pretty does it?
Sometimes I have to stem that tide deliberately, either because I’m tired or because I really need a night off to step back from whatever I’m writing. Tonight was that night: instead of writing, I spent the evening devouring the first third of the dystopian, The Other Side of the Island and finishing a short story so I could write a review for it. Not a bad way to spend the evening. Except the reading was supposed to happen in the tub but I got so into the book I never made it there. Well, there’s always tomorrow. Or Monday. Yes, Monday evening I can spend an hour in the tub reading. Sounds like heaven. And yeah I’ll write too. When I get out. See? I got it all planned out. Now I just have to survive until Monday… Good luck surviving until Monday yourselves. Or even better, until Friday night.