Sometimes the words come pouring out. They fill my dreams and knock on the door of my cerebellum. I can contain them but just long enough to type them.
And then there are the times when my brain feels like a blank, stuffed with something dense and soundproof. Foam acoustic tiles, maybe, or wool batting. What writing comes t…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Un-Settling Stories by Maggie McReynolds to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.