Came home from work, sat down, started to write JIM & JUDITH and got stuck. Stopped. Re-started STREET PREACHER and the words began to flow. The story begins to gain a life of its own. Until this fully happens, writing is a choir, a discipline. Once the story finds its voice or the characters find theirs, the writer – that’s me – just struggles along, limping like a man crippled and using a lousy crutch.
Almost ready to toss the crutch.