Been sidetracked, frustrated, and calming myself down was part of the deal. Wrote and revised an article that went nowhere. The nowhere part sent me on a spiral of disdain and blue until I found myself writing a piece for a novel last night. It was a thousand words worth of story, and I’m not mad about that. It made me feel good. It isn’t perfect writing, and it needs revisions (when does writing not need revisions). It was simply a moment of strength that I needed in order to get material completed. I have no idea where it’s going.
Happy creative endeavors.