Sometimes, I have bad writing. Like a game of hide and seek, sometimes, I just can’t find the words.
When I write, I envision worlds and scenes. As I write each story inevitably has threads that jut out as each scene stitches to the next. I don’t always cut the threads to produce this perfectly predetermined plot. Instead I reach for the threads and I pull on them so that they unravel into beautiful stories. Never quite sure where they’ll lead, I follow until I’ve reached the end. But sometimes the fingers of my mind can’t quite grasp it. A thread too small or too stuck. But still.
