1. I can’t turn it off or leave it behind. The desire to write stalks me everywhere I go. Whether I’m walking my friends dog, watching TV, taking a shower, or baking cookies, I’m thinking about plots, or my next book idea, or contemplating how to kill the bad guy in a suitably original manner.

2. Internet research is a necessary but tricky evil. it drives me nuts.

3. You’re only as good as your next book. You might have written three novels, or six, or ten; but readers always want to know – what’s next? And when can we expect to see it? There’s also the expectation – from readers

4. I’m too hard on myself.

5. What will think of my work.

6. Knowing that there are SO many better writers out there. I’ll never write as well as James Lee Burke or Marian Keyes or Anna Quindlen. Never.

7. Coming up with a new story idea is never easy. Every idea I jot down initially is derivative, or boring, or just plain stupid. Good stories, at least for me, need time to percolate around inside my head for a while.

8. It’s great to write in the fall and winter, when it’s cold or windy or snowing outside, with a fire blazing away nearby and a hot mug of coffee or tea sitting at my elbow. But writing in the summer, stuck behind my desk when it’s gorgeous outside? Agony.

9. Sicking my work apart over and over

10. having almost no one to talk about this with, they don’t get i have to talk about it to keep the story rolling over in my head

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