Since I started writing stories, around the age of five or so, I have only finished one when I was very young about a group of kids who encounter a monster living in the sewers beneath their house but realize in the end the monster isn't a bad creature at all and they become friends. I wish I still had a copy of the tale as it might provide me the information I need to stick with one written creation and see it to the very end. With the Creature Talker I hoped I would be able to conquer whatever section of my psyche prevented me from completing my art but instead I allowed myself to doubt and get pulled away long enough that starting again seems like a daunting and unforgiving task.
For the last few years I have started, scraped, and started again a story focused on a female werewolf. Last night I began again for the fourth time but only got a few paragraphs down and not a single one made me happy in the least. The base and pieces are floating around inside my head but I can't weave the threads to hold them together coherently.
Despite my dismal thoughts I am going to put in all my effort to actually write and finish this story even if it ends up being a jumble of nonsense. Hopefully you'll be able to read the first chapter here next week.
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