Reading a book is like warming your hands over an open fire. Writing a book is different. Sometimes it is happiness, sometimes a struggle. But for me it is the only way to silence all the characters making noises in my head, wanting me to tell their stories.
I know I can get lost in my thoughts, dream, sometimes forget to listen. I have apologized for this often enough. But the solution to how that troublesome chapter should be written can not be scheduled in your calender. And however much I would like to answer something else to the question ”from where do you get your ideas?” there is in truth only one answer. Suddenly they are just there.