My Creative Well Drieth Up

My head hurts.

No, my brain hurts.

I've officially started the pitch game again, querying story ideas to magazine editors.

I like freelancing. I hate the freelance hustle. It is so tiring.

I pitched an editor who I used to write for a few years ago. Pitched her four ideas. She liked one and needed the article by Friday - so I churned it out.

Deadlines are my thing. You give me one and I'll meet it...most likely beat it.

It's been two years since I've been on the freelance merry-go-round. How did I forget how incredibly exhausting it is to force my brain to create great ideas? Spit them out on the keyboard like magic.

How did I let it slip my mind that my cranium literally hurts after pitch brainstorms?

When I was freelancing exclusively, I'd end the day spent. But at least I had all day to generate pitches. Now, I'll have to fit them into my full-time gig, time with the fam and oh, and there's the little matter of my novels.

I'm sure it will all come together. Though, right now my brain feels like mush. And if you ask me anything harder than my name, I may begin babbling incoherently.

Maybe that's what I'm doing now...babbling...incoherently.

Alright, stick a fork in me!