Bubbles.

I just got a sudden urge to phone in sick tonight. To be naughty and miss work. Obviously I'm not going to, I get to see all the people whose company I don't actually mind though the whole ear-phone thing will once again test my temper. The reason for the urge, is because I'd rather be writing. I've literally been writing since I woke up. At this moment, I've finished the first chapter to the third act of The Talon Strand (Maybe, Misery II). 

Writing to me, has become something productive and important. It's like Maybe, Misery took my yearning to write one book before I die, And just completely destroyed it. If my little book could talk, I'm sure it would say "Fuck you Chris, you're giving me some brothers and sisters." 

I don't consider myself a writer, but I do consider myself an author. I think a writer is more driven to the idea of having his work published for a career. You know, writing because the publisher requires the second book in your series even though you don't want to write it. I actually want to write the second book to Maybe, misery because I bloody know it will be completely different. I know already that the story is left open, yet I've no idea if I will ever write the third. Of course, there's a folder already been created but unless I come convince myself that it deserves a third, then there will never be one. 

Saying that though, if someone came and gave me enough cash to keep me in Subways for a while, I'm sure I could be swayed :p I'm just joking... maybe. 

I really am dying to share some of it with you guys... or anyone... anywhere! I'll hopefully be sending out the first completed draft before Christmas, that's my goal. Also I noticed that quite a few of my page views came from Turkey, so to you I say welcome - I hope you were at least moderately entertained :) 

I hope you all have a productive day in your bubbles.

C.S