Writing , as my friend, Paul Mitton, recently wrote  isCatharsis.”

It is a  way of temporarily stilling all the infernal internal dialogue that goes on in your head during the waking hours of the day. All those characters from the stories you’re writing, gathered about the water cooler, comparing plots and rehearsing their lines and watching the gang from the props department as they scurry about to set the next scene.

It gets noisy in there sometimes.

The act of writing is like being an omnipotent god-like creator, making flesh and blood of his or her creations. As the fingers type on the keys or the pen touches the paper, everyone settles down and quietly pays attention.

Let there be light“… from stage left. No, not the bright white. Slap a yellow  filter in it, for My sake.

They shall speak“…. Wait! Hold it! On page 7, Your second entrance… Margaret? Pay attention! Your line is now…

“And on the sixth day,” ….

I sat down and created chapter seven.

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