Thought-Drive

I imagine that if I read more how-to books about writing, or read any at all, I'd know more about why certain writers write, and how writing came to certain authors. I know that for me, in the beginning, before being in college and having a mentor, before filling notebooks with stories instead of class notes, before I chose to write to articulate my frustrations and confusions, before all of that I had images multiplying in my head. My parents chided me for making sound effects with my mouth as I walked ruts in the carpet, from the kitchen, to the dining room, through the den, down the hallway, over and over and over again. They'd pick me up and sit me down on the couch, or tell me to go to my room, whatever it took to make it stop. I don't know where it came from, but I do know that I was never good at staying in the lines, or shading, or coloring. I had plenty of mental images, but there was a disconnect between what I saw behind my eyes and what I could create with my u

I made a plan for summer in mid spring; I guess that was my first mistake. The cover artist and I have settled on the line drawing, and color is being added. I'm told by the end of the week it should be about done. I'm pretty excited, however I am not in possession of the edited version of the inside of the book. All in all, in my abstract dreaming, I wanted all of this to be done before now, so the first book would be out in April, the second in May, so on and so forth. It was neat, in my mind, very orderly and squared. That should've been the first red flag that it wasn't going to work out how I planned. So, I'm not really sure where I am, exactly. I'm in limbo at work, too. Spring semester has ended, and the summer session isn't quite here, yet. The first week's first day was a lot of sitting around looking at emails I'd already opened. I've revised up to the 4th book, turned back around and mad some decisions about some dangling choices in