Do you do that, too? Do you search for the fiery dragon and find only the creaky old windmill? I know I do. I have a tendency to hear the squeak and, therefore, see only the rust. Nevermind the fact that the blades are, otherwise, shiny and oiled. The blasted thing is still turning! But the squeak! It’s maddening! Well, that’s human nature, I guess. Especially when it’s our squeak we’re hearing, and our blade with the rust that we’re seeing. That’s kind of where I am these days where writing is concerned. I’m listening hard  for that squeak, and if I listen hard enough, I’m sure gonna hear it.

Can a story move too fast? Can it be too tight? Have I fleshed out too many characters? Not enough? Have I spent too much time on this scene, and not enough on that one? I’ve been asking myself questions like these quite a lot lately. First drafts are like that, you know. Insecurity abounds. What will the reader think of this? Of that? Well, as Willie Shakespeare himself wrote, “To thine own self be true.” Everyone has to have a rudder to get anywhere in life, right? Mine is channeled pretty deep after these so many (yes, many) years. So, despite the insecurity, I press on with the original draft of my new novel, WHERE SHADOWS LOOM. Actually, I’m feeling better about things just telling you about them now. Thanks, future reader. I’ll let you know more as I channel on. I’ve got a can of 3-in-1 oil right here beside me, should I hear another squeak, whether I need it or not.

Now where is that fiery dragon? I need it for my next scene. I know it’s around here somewhere.