It's two o' clock in the morning, but I still consider it night.
Nighttime, when bad thoughts creep along the highways of the mind like filthy hitchhikers with no destination. I'm writing as an exercise, putting words on the page (or screen, in this case) for no other reason than to stretch the muscle. I'm feeling a little isolated lately. Well, to say a little would be incorrect. I'm feeling very isolated. My writing doesn't feel like it used to. My Muse is out to lunch. I feel lost, no longer relevant, to myself and to others. What I mean is, I think I'm capable of much more than I'm doing lately in regards to writing. I have ideas. So many ideas. And I can't wait to start the next novel. I think it'll be important, to me, and hopefully to others, too. I have hope. As I said, that bastard Muse is out to lunch, not gone forever. My fingers are crossed it hasn't been hit by a car and dragged off to a ditch by a dishonest driver. Oh well, still waitin'.
Happy New Year, folks.
Matt Hayward
9th January, 2016
Nighttime, when bad thoughts creep along the highways of the mind like filthy hitchhikers with no destination. I'm writing as an exercise, putting words on the page (or screen, in this case) for no other reason than to stretch the muscle. I'm feeling a little isolated lately. Well, to say a little would be incorrect. I'm feeling very isolated. My writing doesn't feel like it used to. My Muse is out to lunch. I feel lost, no longer relevant, to myself and to others. What I mean is, I think I'm capable of much more than I'm doing lately in regards to writing. I have ideas. So many ideas. And I can't wait to start the next novel. I think it'll be important, to me, and hopefully to others, too. I have hope. As I said, that bastard Muse is out to lunch, not gone forever. My fingers are crossed it hasn't been hit by a car and dragged off to a ditch by a dishonest driver. Oh well, still waitin'.
Happy New Year, folks.
Matt Hayward
9th January, 2016
