So yesterday, I walked to the Union and came back with three books. One of those was a Terry Brooks Landover novel that I hadn't read. I was in the mood for fantasy, so I got it and picked it up at lunch today.
Only I didn't get very far in reading it. It wasn't the fault of the novel, though.
The first page that I read in that book sparked an story idea for me. It was like getting hit with a brick, and the only thing I could think of after that was the story. I was afraid not to - afraid I would scare it away. Stories have been so hard for me to come by lately, and this one fell into my head so very, very easily, just like they used to, that I was almost afraid to breathe.
But breathe I did, and I also breathed a sigh of relief when I got the story down and posted over at another blog. I think it's a good one, too, if a little sad.
Boy, I hope that the stories start coming back to me again.
I've missed them.
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