I feel like I need to write. It’s an itching, restless feeling in my heart that I get when I’m not writing. However when this feeling occurs I am usually too drained and tired from the day’s activities to do anything to satisfy this urge. I simply roll over and go to sleep, succumbing to the weakness of my body even as my mind remains active and unhappy with what I’m NOT doing. I know that itchy tingling are the hundreds of books I’m meant to write, but sadly this money-driven world we live in will not allow me to pursue my passion the way I want to. So I must put the neglected characters of my novels back in their beds and try my best to ignore the frosty silence of their disappointment. It is a sad day when the need for money leaves you too tired to pursue your need for art.

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