Where to start? The need is palpable. The urge to writing something, anything is frustrating. What ideas could I possibly come up with? The usual is dark and sinister. Born from rock bottom days and self hatred. Bursting with deep, misunderstood feelings. Details I’d rather not share with another. How would I go about creating a world from nothing? Characters, plots, settings, moments of anticipation, hitting the reader right in the feels. It’s all very complicated and just plain hard. Once there’s a spark though, a whole story is ignited effortlessly. Prompts may be my savior to quench this desire without burning myself out trying to be a goddess of a small universe. Short stories, snippets of conversations, scene descriptions, eventually they may all pile up to lay the foundation of a bestseller. Fabricating lives and places, conflicts and resolutions on its own accord. The fun of finding words to pass along my true message is enticing enough to ramble on for a spell. Time to get the quill and ink out and open the book full of blank parchment. There’s work to do and I have to kick it in the ass.