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”?
It does, but I’m a novelist, so OF COURSE I’m supposed to be irritable, even miserable at times. How am I going to write anything worth reading…. if I’m too happy? What reader wants every character always being, uh, “happy,” given we all aren’t happy all the time ourselves?
Moreover, perhaps – and think about this – I’m happy being unhappy?
Hmm, actually isn’t that an intriguing thought? It even maybe rates as bordering on the profound?
See what an author might come up with when pondering a vital human issue. If I were perpetually happy, would I have ever even thought of that? 😉
By the way, there’s a “World Happiness Report” in case you’re interested in seeing how much happier other people out there are than you are.
Have a “happy” day, wherever you are in the world. 🙂