Words


The book I’m writing fills my mind. I feel the end coming like a train rushing at me. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. And I hate having to stop (like for food or sleep or children) because I see the finish line in the distance. The words pour over and through and around me.  I snatch a few here and there–keep, discard, add some in here–but the stream of words has now become a waterfall rushing over and past me almost drowning me with its crazy, powerful momentum. These words seem to have a life of their own now, and I am just along for the ride.

                            

 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s