It has been far too long.
Ironic that a job that had me writing professionally had sapped all my passion for writing. In Harry Potter, it’d be like a dementor, sucking greedily and absorbing mercilessly a part of you that defines why your life is worth living and what makes you you. Nasty mental image, isn’t it?
However, I’ve felt an impulse to start again, to pick up a figurative pen to put words to figurative paper. Delightful.
I need to do research and find the determination to finish the project that I have in mind. Without doubt it will be a torturous process, draining on mind and body, and not a small amount of sweat and tears will be shed because of it.
BUT I am happy now.