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I like my new job, but it comes with a few drawbacks, like far less time to write. After two months, the creative drive in me is starting to writhe in the back of my head like a quivering beast. I have to unleash it or it makes me a tad nuts.
Okay, more than a tad.
I’ve talked to other writers about this, and most agree. When they are denied the chance to write, they get cranky, annoying, and depressed. Fidgety, almost like a fish half-in and half-out of water. I get distracted, and as my characters turn into nagging voices in my head demanding to be heard, I sometimes even start to slur words…a product of trying to form a reasonably informed sentence about book production and scheduling when my intrepid heroine is about to engage in a death-defying battle with Snidely Whiplash.
Currently, Rae West is just coming back to consciousness after being attacked. Rae is the heroine of my latest romantic suspense, and she was just about to explain to her detective partner what happened to her when I had to focus on a book that was behind schedule here at work.
Her patience is wearing thin. And she doesn’t quite believe it when I tell her I’ll be right back. Promise.
Excerpts to come.
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