I haven’t written in a few weeks. Ever since I finished my novel.
I mean, I wrote a short story and a couple of poems.
But I didn’t write anything longer, bigger.
I’ve had this idea for a second novel for a few months now and last night, when I was trying to fall asleep, I kept thinking about this character and her backstory. Words were boiling over: my mind needed to think it through, my fingers type it out.
I used to worry that once I wrote a book, that I would be done. That I would pour all of myself into it and have nothing left to say afterward.
But that’s not how it is. Different characters get into different situations, have different thoughts, and for every one of those, a writer finds something to say.
If you see me in real life, I probably won’t have anything to say. I’m a terrible conversationalist. But if you give me a keyboard, a monitor, and some time alone, I will never shut up.