In the Midnight Hour

Sometimes, at 2 a.m. when I plug away at a chapter, I have a vague sense of alone-ness.

I wonder how many other late owl writers there are out there.

Are you also isolated in the vision of your characters, leaving the real time of the world behind as you type each word lovingly on the page in hopes of passing the story to a welcome audience.

Or is that just the lack of sleep clawing at my brain?

Slow Going

Well, I've officially avoided writing for the past few weeks, with the exception of an article or two. Life just got in the way.

Not that I'm particularly sad about paying attention to life.

It's the constant struggle between being in the now or being in the writing. I find that writing keeps calling at the oddest times and I feel writer's guilt when I do not pay attention to that pesty muse?

Does everyone feel the constant pull?

I do know one thing though, I will not look back at the end of the journey and be sad that I paid attention to life :)