A Magical Death

I’ve had a writing block for some time now. Sometimes it’s something as simple as not making time to do it, putting other things first, etc. Sometimes it’s trying to connect with old characters, but not knowing them anymore. Sometimes it’s thinking a story is bigger than it is and being afraid of it. I write short stories, but I feel like this one particular character deserves more and that frightens me. So, I panic and can’t write.

But whatever the reason, I haven’t been able to write anything.

Until tonight. I scribbled my ideas down. I didn’t write a story, but I was introduced to a character who shared a glimpse of his story. I’m excited to see where this leads. Maybe a new story or a writing exercise, something private and just for me. What’s important is that I felt it, that magical it of writing. I’ve missed it.

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