After my surgery, I wrote furiously to keep myself sane while I dealt with rehab. I worked on a project I had started in 2006, in another rehab, after a previous string of – eventually useless- surgeries.
Then I came home, and everything changed. Exhaustion, depression, pain, anxiety and desperation, profound feelings of isolation and a loss of my sense of self all compounded to make life suck for a while. No reading. No writing. No sleep. No peace.
Today I started writing again. The block finally broke, the code unfurled and it all – just -flowed.
First, I am shocked to see how close The Forked Tongue – A Guide to Treating People Badly is to completion. It won’t be huge- but it’s nothing that’s been addressed before.
I suspect a lot of the right people are not going to like it.
I think it’s going to matter.