If I'd had a drink

If I'd had a beverage that would have been spew alert worthy.

Unfortunately for my sence of bethany's self esteem I can't get all grumbly and tell her she's a twit.

I can't do it.

Not because I have no faith in her writing abilities, that's certainly not it at all, but simply because I've been there, and I've done exactly that. You think you have more to say, you can see more in the glimmering future, buuuuut... You don't have anything more to say. That's how it works with this peice, sometimes the muse gets aggressive. "YOU! You, what are you still doing writing kid? It's time to move one. Pass it on lovey pass on the love."

It's just how it works. I may not have articulated that pain as well as Beth did two posts down, but I've been there, and felt that pain. Especially with this book... I don't know what it is about this book, but the cut offs for "Thou shalt write no more" are sudden and rather abrubpt. If I'm left mid-sentance I'll understand.