Inspiration can be a fleeting, fickle thing and the gossamer of words that capture it can be very fragile. It’s such a joy to have my imagination come alive in response to the things I see and experience, catalysts of stories tickling like so many greedy goldfish. But, more and more I’m beginning to wonder if I’m finally running out. Is such a
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I've been writing blog posts all week, and it's obviously beginning to show. Strange, though, that my job now asks me to do this, when once upon a time it was that thing I did for fun and it felt a bit secretive because of all the fandom connectons. Now it's all so mainstream!
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