Writing a book is a challenging experience that can, at times, be beyond frustrating. My current project has been in the works for six years. I have taken time off and stepped away to focus on my family; or attempted to give up, only to come back to it time and time again. The story line that was the original idea is now actually only a very small part of the revised plot.

My plot has changed, as I have changed. The same things just aren't as important anymore. Originally, this story would have read as a racy romance novel. Now, it won't. Don't get me wrong, the romance is still there. It's just not what makes the world go around anymore. And at this age, I really hope we have all learned  that by now.

When I was a teenager, I could put pen to paper and out would pour amazing things. The words flowed from me like water from a spring. When I began I didn't need to know where I would end up. Yet, now, as I attempt to fulfill my dream of completing this novel, I often trip on my own thoughts. At times there are no thoughts to trip on. So, I just write what ever is there...