Let’s say productivity is at an all time high.

Writing new things with basis in my real life, but different enough that they are officially new fictions. Wrote for over an hour earlier on a story ive been painstakingly picking away at for a few months. And although late expect a couple more posts on here tonight.

And in the meantime some words from me:

 

Since when did it become our role as writers to be society’s bitch?  When even those with strong will, those who are independent can get suckered into believing rather extreme stereotypes as facts, without actually exploring those alleys themselves?  We writers need to find the real stories to build the future better. For our very existence is based on story, and if we refuse to see a story where one needs to be told, we fail our task. -Me

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