The Literary Phoenix

Funny, the damage a silly little book can do. Especially in the hands of a silly little girl.

I’m not sure why this is still surprising to me, but books have so many words in them.  No matter how many words I write, they want more.  For example, I can write 8,000 words and in that time, my character can travel from one town to another and accomplish nothing because there weren’t enough words.  Or I can have a running total of 27,000 and still be in chapter three.  Because words.  I don’t have enough.  Yet.

That’s the beauty of writing. I am the mistress of the words and if I need more, I have them.  They may bring unwanted friends that I’ll need to evict later, and they may get a bit jumbled between my mind and my fingers, but they are there and they are free and I can have as many as I want.

I love words.

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