I've had a lot on my mind lately that hasn't been writing related. The real world seems to be flexing its muscles and put me in a headlock and it hasn't been fun. Between job stress, deadlines, health scares with dear friends and associated other things, taking a little time for myself ends up at the bottom of the list.
It shouldn't. Not for any of us. Life's stressful enough—we can use a little escapism from reality. It's healthy for our psyche and our spirits. A fresh new book does that for me.
I can immerse myself in the life and times of people I don't know, places I've never been, or even a galaxy far, far away. Starting a new book is grand adventure for my mind. I get to know each character, care about their goals. I root for the good guys to overcome every obstacle the villain throws their way, urging them to pick themselves up and persevere.
