It Hadn't Even Occured To

This Was Just One Night, One Chance To Vary And See Where It Took Me. The Fireflies Were Probably Already Out: Maybe It Wasn’t Just A Season Or A Time But A Whole World I’d Forgotten. I’d Never Know Until I Stepped Out Into It. So I Did.

Usually When I Finish The Draft Of A Book, I'm Sure I'll Never Write Another One. I'm Just That Tired And Sick Of Myself. But Then Another Idea Starts Percolating. It Usually Begins With The Narrator's Name, Then Some Idea That Intrigues Me About Her Life Or Situation. I Try To Ignore It As Long As I Can, Because I Know When I Start Writing, I'll Be Right Back Into It, Every Single Day. But Eventually, I Just Have To. It's A Compulsion!

Okay," I Said, "what's Your Biggest Fear?" As Always, He Took A Second To Think About The Answer. "clowns," He Said. "clowns." "yup." I Just Looked At Him. "what?" He Said, Glancing Over At Me. "that Is Not A Real Answer," I Told Him. "says Who?" "says Me. I Meant A Real Fear, Like Of Failure, Of Death, Of Regret. Like That. Something That Keeps You Awake Nights, Questioning Your Very Existence." He Thought For A Second. "clowns.

It Was Great. Freedom Even The Imagined Kind Always Is.

Okay. Enough." I Got Out Of The Closet, Brushing Myself Off, Then Turned Around To Face Her. "this Is Happening. So You Need To Go Downstairs, Face Your Fears, And Make The Best Of It, And Everything Will Be Okay." She Narrowed Her Eyes At Me. "when Did You Suddenly Become So Positive?" "just Get Out Of There.