One day, I woke up and felt like writing again.
It was wonderful, like standing under a waterfall after a long, hot hike up a tropical mountainside.
And then I couldn’t stop.
Its fun again. I can’t tell you how much of a relief that is. My imagination is dancing around the campfire like a stoned hippie, happily tripping. Which is my idea of bliss.
I don’t care if the stories I am producing are my best work. The point is that I am working.
We are writers when we write, right?
So I have written a bunch of Lewis fics, and as I was looking at them today, I realised there was a theme amongst them, so I have batched them together, and put the first of the batch up on AO3 this afternoon.
A little taster:
‘Right,’ he says, turning to Lewis with a big, deep breath, hoping it will give him courage to finally say goodbye. ‘No sense in you waiting. It’ll be ages before I get to the front of that queue.
Lewis shrugs. He looks somehow smaller, older, a little wizened by his unspoken sadness and the impersonal scale of the check-in hall.
‘Don’t mind,’ he says, and manages a gentle smile. ‘I’ll keep you company.’
No, don’t do that, James thinks. Don’t make it harder. Please? But he can’t say it, of course, because he is still desperate for the tiniest morsel, the minutest sliver of time he can get with this man, this beautiful, brave, honourable man who has saved his skin and his soul, and probably his sanity, more times than is fair to remember.’
You can read the rest here at AO3.