I find writing to be an amazing set of cartwheels and flips fed into a child's wish to continue exploring separate levels of land to make the next jump higher, longer and faster. A single sentence coming from out of nowhere sucks more air from my lungs than roaring down a giant wooden rollercoaster that should've been ripped down two decades ago. A body of water doesn't create rain. If it did we'd be walloping through endless puddles rather than waddling across confusing streets like an overweight woman galloping to the market chomping on gum she couldn't bear to toss out the evening before because there was too flavor left after popping bubbles. Think about it...my new book didn't start nor will it end with me. The process of writing includes the energy of all elements not just a single body of water.
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