A start

So after realizing my book stunk, I decided to take a break from writing.  The timing made sense. I was getting ready to move and had enough on my plate; I could justify a break.

And so, sometime in April, I stopped writing.  I wrote exclusively for work, limiting my output to the occasional wordy Instagram caption.

Thank goodness my job is primarily writing.  As a result, I still got to write during my hiatus, to feel the fulfillment of stringing together sentences, the satisfaction of rounding out a blog with the perfect full-circle moment.

But it's funny, now that I sit here, all moved into my new apartment, it's hitting me: I miss writing. Like, really miss writing.  

Armed with this realization, I wish I could say I sat down and wrote this, but first, I journaled for about half an hour about not even knowing how to start writing again.

Until I realized, the answer was probably just to start.

So here's a start.