Write Anything

As the newest of novelists, I'm feeling like Don Music, the frustrated piano player Muppet on Sesame Street. ("I'll never get it! Never, never!")

While I'm not quite that despondent, I have been feeling locked in, too narrowly focused. So, what the heck, today I wrote a poem and bought some summer reading:

Mr. Monk Goes to Hawaii by Lee Goldberg

A Kiss Gone Bad by Jeff Abbott

The Heartbreak Lounge by Wallace Stroby

Loaded by Shari Shattuck

In the big picture, I'll be reading novels with more of a writer's eye than ever before. And to Mr. Negativity, the inner voice saying so what if I don't write a novel, I'll express myself in other forms, I have a Schwarzeneggerian "I'll be back," and a Stallonian "I'm coming to get you."