Catatonic writing

I have been working on this little project for close to a year now. At this point, rough drafts of a series of three and a half books are waiting for the painful editing process. I am determined to find the end to part four, and the series, before that happens.

That being said, part four is a slow progression. There are too many loose ends to tie in and incorporate to a satisfactory conclusion. The only deadline set is my own, March 9th, a year to the day that this story began on the page.

If I'm lucky, I slip into these states when I write. The sounds from my IPod blend into an unrecognizable din. My fingers find the keys of their own accord, and a seemingly blank mind wraps itself in the character's voice and races away. Much of book one was written this way. In book four, these moments are rare. Most of the time I'm battling another idea that's taken root so deeply, it inhabits my dreams in regular intervals.

Tonight, for a brief moment, I became Leena. I let her doubts and fears wash over me and spill out in a mix of emotional letters. She trusted me to give voice to the thoughts buried beneath layers of good intentions and false smiles. Tonight was a good night to write.