Skittish, Spooked, but Present

stockvault-waiting-horse147090Baby steps were taken in the writing of Six Brothers yesterday.

I was a bit skittish, I will admit.

Having been thrown flailing from the creative mount the day before, I was a little nervous crawling back onto the equine’s back. I blame this apprehension entirely on the said-flailing.

It was… *winces sourly*… ungainly.

Perhaps if I had managed to do it with a graceful swan dive or a head-held-high “Excuse me, while I depart from this beast,” the reclaiming of the saddle wouldn’t have been done so warily.

I was spooked.

Being spooked is a terrible place for a writer to be… unless of course you’re writing a Stephen King-esque piece in which being scared crap-less is all part of the fun.

I eked out maybe 100 words in yesterday’s return. Yeah, I know. Pretty miserable performance there.


There was indeed a performance.

There was indeed a rider on that wiggling mount.

That’s what is important.

*deep breath, deep breath, deep breath*

At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I force myself back up onto that dang saddle again today.

Until tomorrow…



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