I woke up this morning to one of the most beloved days in a school teacher’s life.
I live in a section of the country that is now encased in ice, although we are supposed to warm up today and drips are cascading off the roof outside my window as I type. I live for days like this. I’ve been granted an unexpected day in which to completely focus on my writing. As I get ready to work on my next novel I am pondering whether or not to stay immersed in the characters I’ve created in Inheritance of Truth or to venture away from Liv and Ridge for a while to explore new personalities. I do believe I am leaning toward the latter… as a good friend reminded me this morning, writing comes to us in its own time. It cannot be rushed. So true… yet I think I hear inspiration knocking and it often doesn’t wait long.