While things are still boiling in anticipation for my sister's wedding (yup, she got pregnant and she's getting married two weeks from now), my writer life is just picking up pace. No thanks to Adam. He's very, very sick and I may have to trade him in if I don't save enough to get him fixed. I don't want to see him go but with my current finances, I am left to find other means of getting the money.
I am thinking of going freelance again but last time I tried (and that's just one article) I completely froze. Why? I guess because the topic wasn't of interest to me and the restrictions frightened me. The trauma from my last experience really made a mark. It's either perfection at one sitting or nothing at all. That's why I choose the fiction or lifestyle genre. I have freedom to use whatever style without losing the essence of the work.
So for the next two days I'll be hammering away at the keys of my dad's pc to fill the pages of my novel. It feels nice to sit and hear the keys with their quirky, mesmerizing tone. And it's the thought that with each pound of the key I am creating magic through words that hypnotizes me to the task.