The voices in my head want me to write about them.

No. I’m not crazy. At least not in the sense that I need to be carried away in a white jacket to a place where the number one thing to look forward to is the flavor of jello of the day.

At this point in my writing I actually consider myself a writer. I might not be a very good writer, but I put words to paper, most of the time they make sense, and some wonderful people sometimes read those words. So yea, I’m a writer.

The problem with writing is everything around you becomes a story. I have voices in my head which are begging to get out. So many voices. So many stories. So little time.

Whenever I am writing stories, and take a break, I feel as if my characters are tapping their feet and getting irritated with me because I’ve left them in limbo. 

When I start typing again, I almost feel like apologizing for making them wait so long.

Don’t worry my precious voices, I’ll be back soon.

Until next time…Be safe, be kind, be happy, and take time to love one another. We’re all in this together.

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