Writing is a Lonely Sport

I woke up at 4:00 AM, rolled over saw the time, went back to sleep. Woke up again it was 4:10. Tried to sleep some more -- alas I figured it was fruitless because my mind was racing with ideas for my new mystery novel I am writing. So I am up with coffee in my hand or at least close by writing.

Writing is such a lonely sport. It is you, your pen and the ideas swimming around upstairs. Your hand is moving in compulsively, too bad most of the time it cannot keep up with the commands of the brain, especially if you want to read it later on. It is as if the mind is feeding off the flow of an unseen spring.

It is quiet. Lynda and our beagle, Roxy are still sleeping. It is a perfect time to let the mind roam that thin line where reality decides to step aside for a little while and let the pool of fresh ideas spill forth, only to be refilled anon.

I surely hope you all have a wonderful day and not filled with murder and mayhem like my mind is doing early on a Monday morning!