I have no inspiring words of wisdom today. Like so many other dreamers, this week has been a slap in the face to my optimism. Hope got punched in the gut, but I never did know how to let fear drive me.
So I write to avoid staring into the sordid, predictably corrupt world outside my wall of words. In here, in my worlds, the corrupt face consequences, the weak find their voices, and characters do change, and grow, and rise victorious against terrible odds.
With the power of fiction, perhaps the world can learn how our true stories are supposed to end?
I’ll keep trying to write it better. Ever forward, right?