I must admit I’m in a pretty good mood this morning. My moment of “inspiration” on the road the other day has indeed led to what I had hoped it would. While still in its early stages, the new manuscript is up and running: I finally have the handle on it I desperately needed.
So I do now feel I can indeed write this “different” novel. I believe I should be able to take what had been up to now vague and disjointed story ideas that had been bouncing around in my head and slowly convert them into a form that might make readers, uh, “happy.” Does that make me “happy”?