Bravely turning my back on laundry, dust, piles of old magazines and unmade beds, I go into my office, sit down and get into the story.
But first there’s ritual that must take place. You know, to ease my mind into what I’m doing. (Yeah I know, it’s just me BS-ing myself but humor me, please.) It’s been four days since I’ve been in the world of The Guy Upstairs. Who knows what they have planned for me? I’m not one of those kids who complain that too much time has passed for a productive writing session. I believe stories have their own energy. They are their own little worlds waiting for us to enter. No matter what route I take to get there (as pictured below), as long as I shed any fears or expectations, the door is always open.