When Writing Isn't Going Well-then The Bad

I Write A Book Over A Period Of Months Or Years, And When I'm Done With It, Usually Another Year Goes By Before I See It In Print. It's Hard To Be Patient And Wait

There's Hope Around The Corner.

It's Just So Much Fun To Make Up Characters, Situations, And Everything Else About A Story. I Have So Much Freedom And Flexibility To Do Whatever I Want.

Oh, Myr," He Chokes Out. "i Hate Having To Ask This Of You..." He Glances Towards The Car Again, And I Crouch Down In The Shadows, Hoping It's Too Dark For Him To See Whether The Window Is Open Or Closed. The Woman Pats His Arm, Cradling Her Hand Against His Elbow. "you Know I'd Do Anything For You And Hil," She Says. I Like Her Voice. It's Throaty And Rich. "you'd Do Anything?" My Father Repeats Numbly. "even Now? After -?" "even Now," The Woman Says Firmly.

I Snorted "oh, Beauty. What's That Good For?" Mary Stared, Her Eyes Round. "it Won You The Prince, Did It Not?" I Snorted Again, I Prefer To Think That He Was Captivated By My Charming Personality." I Giggled To Let Mary Know I Was Trying To Make Fun Of Myself.