I can never not write. It doesn’t feel like a choice I have. Words, phrases and thoughts move through me the way weather systems change, slow and pressurized with sudden storms, and entire atmospheres forming minds of their own.
Then there is the steady drip, quiet and manageable, like the focused writing of my work in progress novel, Centarficus, and the current strenuous editing of a recently finished book, Anatomy of the Dark Empath.
However….