This is one of those days when words don’t fit.
Sit and wait and tap and think
but silence sits under too-bright images (those blurs one sees
on the way to the beach) and there’s the painful, everything pulse,
which is less peaceful than the nothing.
What does one do at a wasteful time such as this?
She looks at dogs.
~For my niece, Maddy, who is a writer.
Praying With One Eye Open 
Hey, Aunt Hannah! Thanks for dedicating this to me. I’ll have to tack it up!
I’m going to do this Write-a-Page-a-Day challenge. By the end of the year, I’ll have a majorly-flawed, medium-sized novel. I can’t wait for that day. But it’s hard, making myself write something bad and being OK with it. I want to build a sandcastle out of a couple grains of sand. That never works, though. So, here I go 😀 <3.
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Well, I write only 500 words a day. But I do it every day–except weekends. I’m about 100 pages into my second novel. It’s slow-going, but it’s better than no-going, right? Don’t give up.
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