I am on the roller-coaster.
One minute the WIP is HOT, then the next the walls crash down around me as I stare blankly at the screen.
I know I have something to say with "Salt in My Coffee," but it's all getting backed up in foolishness, doubt, and not getting the sense that it is an exciting tale from the critiques.
It must be the hormones because I just snatched all ebook editions of SNAP SHOT off the web. I'm pissed and lost. How is that possible?
Writing is like shopping: when you can do it, it's fun. When you can't, you think about it.
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