Well it seems I’m taking a little break from my book this week, after scrambling toward the end of chapter six in several marathon writing sessions. I’m avoiding starting it up again because I’m at a painful part in the story, and every time I think about delving into it, I feel a little sick to my stomach. So I’ve been updating this blog, pinned a bunch of stuff to my characters’ Pinterest boards and went over my first readers’ suggestions and comments, but haven’t actually opened the document up to write anything new since last Wednesday.

When I think about it, I cry. And that makes me realize I may have invested a little bit too much of myself into this story. I also feel like I can never find the words to do the emotions of the scene in my head justice.

Or it means I’m a little unstable right now. Really, it’s 50/50.

What I need is a nice quiet evening, a couple glasses of wine, a box of kleenex and a playlist of sad songs.

Or for someone to punch me in the back of the head and scream “start writing!” in my ear as loudly as they can.