Sometimes, taking a risk can be a good thing.
Or at least, that’s been today’s adage. I wrote a piece, a deeply emotional piece. A deeply honest piece, over 2700 words of everything I’ve held back lately.
It’s inspired me to write more, but not now. I need to finish writing Rebel Song before I can focus my attention on this new idea flourishing within my mind. I can see it all so perfectly, and I’ve definitely made a thousand notes about it. I feel similar to the way I felt when the idea of Damaged Goods hit me.
Breathless, hopeful, invigorated. Utterly exposed.
But Becky and Travis’ story is still calling to me as well. I’m having a lot of fun writing this book, and I’m not ready to put them on the back burner. I’ll probably still write chapters when inspired to do so, just like I did with Damaged Goods. I wrote the first five chapters one day when I was supposed to be finishing Collateral.
But the piece I wrote today, it might just make it somewhere else for the time being. I haven’t decided yet, because it’s that bloody truthful. I am bare.