And Through the Woods…

I’m finally past the horrifying pain and emotions part! Hooray! Now onto the depressing “what is life” part! Yay!

I’m really happy to see people following my progress on something that’s really just for me. Something that I can only describe until it’s completed.

I got a new version of American Gods for Christmas. When I opened up to the first page it read: “I don’t know what it’s like to read this book. I only know what it was like to live the writing of it.” This really resonated with me and with my writing process and technique. I try my best to live the writing. To feel what the characters feel. And I really don’t know what it’s like to read it. I can’t go back and read it without feeling what I first felt when writing it.

Is that the way it’s supposed to be? Is it supposed to evoke such visceral passion that I simply can’t look at it objectively?

On one hand, that’s probably good. It’ll always hold a special place in my heart and be something that only I will truly understand. But on the other hand, is it possible for the reader to feel what I felt? At any rate, I’m going to give it all I’ve got to hopefully strike a chord that’s at least reminiscent of what I’ve gone through to make this happen.

Thanks again for reading and sticking with me! It won’t be much longer now! Happy New Year!

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