MADNESS AND CLUTTER

    My writing area is cluttered with notebooks, papers, and writing utensils. I would feel freakish if my desk was squeaky clean. A cluttered desk is a reminder of the hundreds of things in my mind all at once. Is the plot right? Do I need this paragraph? Can I add a few more pictures?    

   Such is the mind of a writer. I wonder how I can juggle all the characters into people that can really exist?  At other times, I say to myself 'Are you nuts?' Despite the paradoxes I find myself in, I love all the insanity.  I say to myself 'there's a method to my madness.' And, in most cases, it works.