The Big O

For so long the desire to write has been missing. Now, though, there's this urge, this urgent feeling inside of me that is only soothed by my fingers on the keyboard. And then the feeling changes to one of satisfaction, of knowing that this is what I'm supposed to be doing. My mind, no, my entire being fills with the knowledge that yes, I am writing again and it feels so right, so good, so wonderful. And I wonder how I could have gone for so long without the therapy words avail me, without the sheer joy I get when it all comes together into a cohesive and coherent story. I think it's the best thing in the world.The only thing better would be seeing my name on the dust jacket of a novel. Right now, I can see that happening. I read an interview where Richard Z. Kruspe compares creating music with orgasm and I'm going to have to agree that any sort of creative process gives that feeling.