Writing is the best. I had forgotten.
I’m writing. I should be editing and formatting and promoting my book…but I’m writing the sequel. And it’s amazing. I love writing. Love it. I had forgotten what it’s like to write and get immersed in a story until you see characters in others and you see pieces of scenes around you.
There’s something cathartic about being able to put into words a scene that only appeared in your mind. Capturing a feeling that only existed in my heart is not easy. Sometimes, I fail and the result is simply embarrassing. But, when I succeed, it’s something so beautiful words fail to describe it. I read and re-read my passages, critiquing them and changing words and adding pieces, polishing already until they’re perfect and feel delicious when I read them…and I love it. When it comes together, it feels so good it’s absolutely addictive and I get why some people have to write. Like breathing.
Publishing, formatting, promoting and editing are all parts of the writing process that finally produce a book. I understand it better now because I’ve gone through it. But the joy comes from writing. And it’s a wonderful thing.
A friend of mine asked me once what I liked more, writing or reading and I gave her a dirty look. “Don’t make me choose,” I said. The question itself tears at me. I can’t imagine ever cutting one of those out of my life. But if I had to choose, if I could only do one…