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| A bit late for October! |
I write from my thoughts that float around in the space in my head, which is the stage around me. I see the characters, I hear the voices, signaling time to write.
I go to my writing room, stacked full of this and that I have accomplished, or work that I want to finish. This place is cluttered, which is a bit tiring. I focus on the screen of the computer. My search begins for the story document, and the writing starts. Then who shows up is my critic. She is haunting going on and on about this and that, spelling and grammar, what is wrong with this character, and that scene. She becomes a song in the back of my mind as the story unravels. Then the phone rings about a text, I continue to write. My husband comes in my writing space to say what he is doing. My cat comes into humor and calms me. All the while, the story continues to float through my thoughts, and I'm in the middle, watching, and hearing to catch every word.
Well, first I sit on a roll-a-coster, then jump off onto a flower which bobs up and down. I slid off and land on another flower with spider webs tangled around the petals. I manage to slip through the petals and sticky web and jump to a leaf, another leaf joined others in jumping here and there; finally, I fall into a large pond of water. I float, relaxing. The sun shines, people laugh. Then boom the water begins turning around and falling into a funnel, which becomes a long tunnel which twists and turns around and down. I plop out on soft mulch staring at bright lights. Then I hear shouts of joy and hands lift me up, bells rings, and whistles blowing, shout of 'hurray' echo. Balloons are handed to me. I hear, "Great novel!" 
