"Fear is the root of all bad writing." - Stephen King

I spent a year in Limbo. The food wasn't all that great, but the view was fantastic. My visit was trying but worthwhile. I learned how to walk a tight rope and gamble my last dime. It's time to move on, though.

Willie's finished training and has his orders. We move to Savannah next week.
Liam is three months old and budding into an amazing little boy.
I've spent a year plotting, planning, and brooding. Nanowrimo looms just over the horizon.

I've found it's impossible to stick to any hard plans while balancing the Army and a baby, so I'm not going to participate in the Nanowrimo time constraint. I am going to use the event as a "spring board." I may not be ready, and I have no idea where my plot is going. You can't wait forever, though, and I'm sure my characters will inform me when we've reached our destination.

So with an invocation to my Muse, the sweet sleeping Liam, I'll pack my bags and head east. I'm looking forward to a new town, salty air, and endless skies.

Nothing unleashes more possibilities than an empty page and the horizon.