He left town on a Saturday morning, three weeks ago. That afternoon I sat down to write the grand love scene: in which the fated werewolf mates claim each other forever and ever.
I was sad but had accepted the end of the relationship, and I was ready to get to work. But I couldn’t get myself to write the words. I could hardly picture the characters together.
A few days ago, I finished the love scene. I’m glad I took several days to mull over such an important moment in the novel, for I wouldn’t have included some crucial elements if I hadn’t taken my time. (I’ve found that’s the case outside of life’s interference, that like wine or whiskey, ideas need to stew in a barrel for a while, even if you have the time to write 10,000 words in a weekend.)
I’ve also realized that I was…
View original post 177 more words