Today and the next few days I am relieved of life-draining responsibilities at work I will be working on my next release, namely a collection of my short stories. I've already got six or seven prepped and ready to go, so to get in the mood I'm taking a few minutes here and there to write brief descriptions about the how's and why's of certain pieces.
Doing so has hit me with a rush of different feelings. I feel nostalgic because I remember the mindset I was in back then and I must admit I miss certain things about the environment I was in. I feel excited because I just realized that I only just started this venture into writing less than a year ago and I have a book completely written and published. I feel sad for all the time I've wasted throughout the years, knowing that I could have spent time more wisely in my education over the past two decades. I feel pessimistic because, well, that's what I do to make me feel optimistic. Shh, don't ask.
At any rate, if my life lets me have my way with it, I expect to have the collection completed before winter arrives. I know that seems very far off considering that it's about 100 degrees here in Jersey, but creativity takes properly timed spontaneous attacks of creativity. I don't choose when to write, it chooses me. My new place and dedicated workstation will hopefully make short work of the rest of the stories. God knows I have enough in queue to pull from at this point. Here's to the gods and muses of literacy and my willingness to be taken advantage of.