I’m sitting here in one of my favorite writing/reading/people watching places. At least for those which I can get to when I get away for a lunch break. It’s very literary. I’m sitting under a staircase designed to look like the pages of a book.
I came here hoping I could put my mind toward this new project I want to create. I’ve found the format, but I haven’t quite found dry ground to move on. I need to find the people and the secrets to populate this world, and they’re being tough to pull out in to the open road.
I’m stuck, and that’s frustrating. Not sure how to move forward quickly. Of course, quickly, has rarely been my m.o. so I don’t know why I should expect it now.
I know they’ll come to me eventually.