Guys . . . . I have an odd realization to run by you: For the first time an extremely long time, I’m excited about writing again.
And it is fucking wonderful.
Not to be a flagrant potty mouth, but that’s the gods-honest truth. I sat down a few moments ago—in pain from my scalp to my hips and medicated beyond comprehension–and automatically opened the current novel-in-progress. I’m pretty sure the last time this happened was nine months ago when I lost myself putting the finals chapters into what I think we’re calling Infliction, the second Inbetween novel in my series from Just Ink Press. That’s a long time ago, guys. I’ve been seriously unhappy with myself since then.
No creative outlet? Bleh. It isn’t normal. Not for me, anyway.
Actually, not for most of the people around me. One way or another, they manage to make their passion and creativity a career. It’s inspiring in ways I can’t correctly convey here. I hope and trust you have one person in your life who you look at and think, “To have an ounce of the grace with which they lead their life, that would be an incredible thing.” Those people nudged me back to this place. I trust they know who they are. A-holes.
And now that I’ve blubbered all over the internet, I’m going to torment vampires and ogle Winchester boys—occasionally channeling Crowley on accident—because I can. It makes me happy. No one is harmed . . . unless they’re fictional folks living in the worlds I created. Then anyone could end up worm food. Right, Jinxie?
Three . . . two . . . one . . . . She likely just called me a bad name. I can’t wait until you guys are in on the fun once Infliction is released.
Hold on to your hats.