A journey, a constant journey it has been and will still be.
I recently kicked my butt into high gear with this book, having merely sat there before, ignoring it wholly though the ancient innate pull in my soul cried out in pain for my denying its feeding on my creativity.
I'm such a cruel mother. But no more will I abandon my child in search of lesser pleasures. Here and now I dedicate my time to finishing you, The Immortal's Guide, and by the end of this year, I shall be well versed in your words and sentences and onward to write The Two Swords, your consummate brother in this long tale that must be told.
You know one needs sleep when she begins to speak about her books as though they are her children.
And in the night, let us find our peace. If not in our hearts, then in our heads. And let our words from these troubled minds spill out to nourish our eyes, so that our hearts may feel as our characters feel, our words may pierce their souls and send them weeping or laughing, or angry onto the next page. Let us, as writers, come together, and even as the world crashes around our heads, we hold onto to the one thing that has never failed us before:
And P.S. Harry Potter Week = Me with a brown paper bag attached to my mouth. Rejoice wizards, for our time is never over!