This rarely happens, but today it did. I wrote a scene for an upcoming novel and cried my way through it. Something about the sadness in Hixon, the pain he’d felt over a lost relationship, the sting of rejection. I cried with him. My POV character Jed couldn’t stop the tears from spilling either.
Sometimes writing energizes me, makes me laugh, makes me happy to walk this world, pen in hand. Sometimes it makes me grieve. And that’s sweet too. Because what life would be worth its salt without grief?