"All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath."
I started something tonight that I may not have the courage to finish. I left the comfort of the warm lamp next to me to find the dark bathroom and felt a horrible feeling creeping up my neck. I hope it isn't some type of....I don't know....questionable spirit telling me to stop. I don't think I can now that I've started.
It's frightening, looking over what I've accomplished in the past hour and realizing that there's so much more to say. I'm worried that if I set my laptop down for the night that the story will die in my head, although in all honesty the story has been in my head for a long time...ever since that phone call in February two years ago.
Still, there's something about this. Something that tells me if I stick through it, I can and will finish it.
I even have the last sentence (although I'm sure it will be edited terribly) worked out in my head.
"And with trembling fingers that mirrored her own resolve, she turned the page, diving headfirst into a frightening and illimitable darkness."
It's frightening, looking over what I've accomplished in the past hour and realizing that there's so much more to say. I'm worried that if I set my laptop down for the night that the story will die in my head, although in all honesty the story has been in my head for a long time...ever since that phone call in February two years ago.
Still, there's something about this. Something that tells me if I stick through it, I can and will finish it.
I even have the last sentence (although I'm sure it will be edited terribly) worked out in my head.
"And with trembling fingers that mirrored her own resolve, she turned the page, diving headfirst into a frightening and illimitable darkness."