Only a day away...eek!!!!

I'm down to the 22 hour mark and counting. Soon the misery of anticipation will be over and the race will be on! I'm so anxious to get started that I almost can't stand it. It's difficult to find enough things to occupy all the time necessary to make it to the starting line.

It's strange how easy it is to procrastinate when you're in the middle of a project...but when you have to purposely "wait" to start the project, all you seem to want to do is start it. I think this psychological reversal might be a great motivational tool for getting things done when you really don't want to.

I'm prepped and prepared, outlined and outfitted. I've characterized, plot-erized, scene-erized and now I'm ready to begin. As long as my momentum holds, this might actually be easy. Lets just hope that once the thrill of getting started wears off, that there will still be enough energy to complete my story.

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A to Z reflections....

Another A to Z challenge comes to an end--- another collection of posts and poetry have been written, another deep breath of relief is released. For my fellow bloggers that survived as well, it's another 'challenge-completed' notch carved into the writing desk. I've come to enjoy my yearly foray into the world of all things alphabetical. This was my third year, though it was only the second year I had a workable theme (which made the challenge substantially easier than the first year I attempted this challenge.) And, though my first year was difficult because my focus was so scattered, I found this year was more difficult because I lost the enthusiasm that came with the first year excitement----excitement which helped me plug along until the end of the challenge. Year 3 was a success in the sense that I completed the challenge, though, this was the year that almost wasn't---- Somewhere about a third of the way through the challenge, I seriously considered...

Bitter Honey

Weaving dreams of beguiling gold, a future's price for happiness. What secrets do you, determined, hold? asks the summer wind's soft caress. A guarded name, a hidden hope. Spinning wheels clutching time, grasping straw that falls away, What dreams may come, we soon may find, won't recall at end of day. A cherished life, a memory lost.

A million lives, beneath a single sky.....

Though our feet leave different prints,our tongues sound different words, there's a mirrored rhythm in the beating of our hearts. Though born in different worlds, our eyes sharpened 'neath different moons, there's an unspoken truth in the warmth of our touch. We may walk in different strides and dream different dreams, we may speak in different voices, maybe swim in different streams. It's plain to see, when dark night falls, as all the stars shine through, that underneath it all, there's no difference 'tween me and you.

From the Inkwell, From the Vein.....

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