I’m willing to tell you. I’m wanting to tell you. I’m waiting to tell you. – George Bernard Shaw

Characters are filling my head with stories again. They are growing very impatient as I trudge outside every day to repeat the insane tasks of removing snow from my driveway. Someone suggested I was taking artistic liberties with the snow situation, which compelled me to do some fact-checking. O’Hare airport, a mere 13 miles from my doorstep, is reporting 16 inches of snow on the ground before this latest storm. Another fun fact is that we have had snow with measurable accumulation on ten of the last eleven days.

My characters were unimpressed. They want me to write their stories. One of them dropped a big bombshell in my brain during yesterday’s frigid, extreme-cold workout. Motivation, intrigue, skeletons in the closet, old wounds, deep-seated hatred, and a thirst for revenge spilled from loose lips. I gasped and asked why he was telling me this when I couldn’t stop and write it down. He laughed and said he hoped it would be enough motivation to force me to drop everything, get my butt in the chair, and write. It looks like I have marching orders.

No matter the challenges and the obstacles blocking my way, I maintain the item at the top of my list as a non-negotiable. Yesterday I wrote 652 words.

Did you write yesterday?

Did you write yesterday?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer