I wrote nearly a hundred pages last night. Carefully side-stepping poor Logan. Fearful that I may need to completely re-design and re-write him, I have begun to avoid him at all costs and focus on Cassie. Which sucks because, while I know - and love - Cassie, Logan is the main character; the backbone of my story.
Just for fun - and to distract me from feeling sorry for myself, I was trying to analyze why I do my best writing in the middle of the night...
Maybe it's the illusion of solitude...
It must be the quiet... or the dark... or that dreamy place between asleep and awake... Or the knowing that my family is all tucked safely in their beds. Maybe it's the sound of Steve breathing. (Such a wonderful sound. I love him sleeping next to me while I am writing... probably because even when my thoughts take me someplace dangerous or heartbreaking, his presence assures my safety... and my sanity.)
Ultimately, though, it's a mystery.
CM
Newprose.org
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