Monday, March 23, 2009


Half-formed plots. Glimpses of characters. Random dialogue. Opening sentences or paragraphs. My hands are busy in the garden, my back is breaking under the strain, my mind is wandering, flirting with ideas, picking them up and considering them like river rocks. On the surface, smooth and dull, but occasionally revealing buried pieces with sharp edges that sparkle in the sun.

Later, sitting at the keyboard, staring at the monitor...stalling.

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