I shouldn't complain, I really shouldn't. It wasn't until just recently that I've set myself writing goals. Nothing special, but it helped me get through. One of those things was to punch out 3,000 words every day. I've manage to do that and got to the point now where it feels effortless to reach that particular goal no matter how hectic the day seems to get. Except today, all targets met, I'm fund myself running on empty.
There's always been a little something left in the well.
I don't like my muse running on empty. It's never really come up empty before. I've always found something, some turn of phrase, a photograph, that's sparked the words in me.
Except now.
Now I feel burnt out. A little burnt out anyway.
Maybe it's time for a movie and a couple of well earned beers.
There's always been a little something left in the well.
I don't like my muse running on empty. It's never really come up empty before. I've always found something, some turn of phrase, a photograph, that's sparked the words in me.
Except now.
Now I feel burnt out. A little burnt out anyway.
Maybe it's time for a movie and a couple of well earned beers.
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