It’s like a maddening, intense, all-consuming love affair. Complete with drama, tears, reconciliations, secret rendezvous, and sweet revelry. Not necessarily in that order.
Oh and did I mention obsessive? As in the “I can’t think about anything else. At all.” kind of obsessive?
The only reason I can write this blog post is because my current draft is being edited by someone else whom I trust very much. Otherwise I would be hunched over my laptop desperately trying to pour my passion onto the page.
I don’t recommend this approach by the way. I think that a cool, distant, more platonic relationship with writing a book would be much much saner. I just don’t see how my book and I can be “just friends” at this point, though. It’s all or nothing. And I have my heart set on “all”.
So if you see me at the local coffee shop and I only have eyes for my laptop, don’t take it personally. It just means that my book and I are wrapped up in a fascinating conversation and I don’t want to break the spell.
You can bring me coffee though.