Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
One of those days of sunshine and just the right smell and air texture that my brain asked, “You sure you want to go to the coffee shop? Sure you want to be inside, siting at a laptop at a table, inside, mind you, did I point that out, pecking away on a keyboard? Are you sure that you want to do that on such a pretty springy, summery day? Just think what it’s like outside. You get a chair and go out there and read and doze…you should think about it.”
I did think about it. So gosh darn tempting. Then I remembered what was happening with the character, plot, story, and suddenly I was in a hurry to get to the coffee shop, plant my ass, and peck away.
Bright sunshine storms the world outside the coffee shop window. Yes, it’s a sunstorm fronting a blue sky, a cruel thing. Exerts the kind of pull felt when he was a teenager and a girl asked him to come to her house to listen to music.
He’s here to write. Edit. Just thirteen months into the novel in progress. Third revision session. Halfway through. Must be done.
With a promise to the day, I’ll join you later, he opens the novel and resumes.
It may be a new year, but it was the same him. His resolutions weren’t changed. He would slot time each day to read as well as time to put his rear into a chair and sit down to write. His resolutions were still to coax the muses to come and help him, write a novel, and then edit and publish it.
He didn’t think those resolutions would ever change.
Michael Seidel, writer 