And then I found myself writing what other people wanted, trying to fulfill other folk’s expectations, and more times than not, the words failed me.
I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do light and fluffy. Life isn’t like that and no matter how hard I try I can’t get to the happy ending without letting life do what it does naturally. It needs to throw me and my characters a curve or two. It needs to be difficult and complicated and sometimes downright messy and nasty. It can’t always be pretty because life isn’t like that. Sometimes it has to hurt so deeply that I question whether or not I can rise above it and then I do. That’s what I need to write. Those are the words spinning out of control for my attention. I am desperate to write for the sake of writing because I’m still passionate about the beauty of words and the tales they can tell. I don’t want to stop being passionate about what I love to do.
I’ve decided to let other’s do fluffy. I just can’t do it anymore.