Sometimes it's strange how things turn out. You think you know where you're going, but then the landscape changes and you're left wondering where to go.
Or that's how I've been feeling lately. But it does make me wonder about all the choices I've made. So I sit here, at my laptop, staring into the void and wondering. The truth of the matter is that you can't ever really know - all you can do is make a choice and see where it leads you.
Because you have to make a choice. The worst thing is sitting on the fence, not choosing.
I've chosen to go back to my fantasy novel.
It's a like meeting an old friend, or perhaps an former flame whom you're still on good terms with. There's a kind of comforting familiarity mixed with the excitement that you feel when you haven't seen someone you're fond for some time.
I've found myself gripped by the story once more. I know there are things that need to be worked on - it's far from perfect - but it inspires me. I feel I now have the distance and the confidence to be ruthless with it, cutting scenes and tightening the prose. Like the early stages of a relationship, it's almost at the point where I can't bear to leave it.
And I guess that's the point of it all. There are countless other things we could be doing that would be easier - or more lucrative than writing for a living. Would any of us want to write at all if not for the passion it stirs within us?