Sometimes I inch my way from the warmth of my bed knowing I must go downstairs and begin my work for the day.
Sometimes I emerge ready to battle my work for the day.
Sometimes I smile, stretch and slide from my sheets delighted to stroke the keyboard and do my work for the day.
Why is each day so different? Starting a new project is a thrill seeking adrenaline rush as I put skin and clothes on my characters, research my settings and breath life into their dialogue.
Battle days are the worst. I have to fight the urge to answer the man in Nigeria that needs my help so badly he emails me once a week for money. Sure he's a prince but he needs to learn how to handle his money. Then there is all the social media I feel I must keep up with to build name recognition.
The inch days? Those aren't the best but they aren't the worst. Those are the middle of the book days. I'm know what must be done to get to the 'end.' I often wonder if there isn't a way to plug my brain into my computer and upload the rest of the book. But no, that piece of the future hasn't been invented yet. I'm sure there is a toddler somewhere right now working on that idea.
My work is the the best in the world for me. I can't imagine doing anything else that creates so many choices and emotions in one given day.