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Today, I got up early (or early-ish in my book) and worked on my WIP. I haven’t done this in months.

I used to do this all the time, used to do it every day for over a month during the Golden Age of Writing back in November 2008. That was a long while ago.

I’ve worked on becoming a novelist for a long time now. Seriously for nearly six years now. Well, on and off for nearly six years, if you call that being serious.  After so long, the dream got stale. I sort of forgot the reason why I wanted to write novels. I found myself putting it off more and more, and taking up other goals, other dreams. Like becoming an illustrator.

I stopped going to writing blogs, and started going to art websites. Soon, I stopped reading about fiction writing altogether and simply lost all passion for it. I was just going through the motions. I had a story in me and I was simply, slowly, getting it down. But that was it. My heart wasn’t in it like it used to be.

Due to my latest epiphany/breakthrough/breakdown/relapse/recovery I realized that perhaps art isn’t for me (I still wanna do it, but probably not full time).  My love for Story always comes first.

Then I realized the first chapter for my novel for the novel writing course I’m in is due March 2 and that I’m very much behind.

I brought out my lesson binder, caught up on the writing blogs I used to frequent (QueryShark, Terribleminds, etc), and started Fire in Fiction by Donald Mass I had bought a million years ago, but never touched.

And just like that. It returned.

I’m excited again.

Today, I finally got up earlier than absolutely necessary to work on my novel before taking Jesse to school. It was easier to do it this time. I wanted to get up early. I had worked on my assignment all last night and kept it fresh in my mind as I went to bed and on my mind when I woke up.

And man does it feel GOOD.

Have you ever lost the fire for something you loved to do and found it again?

How did you get it back?

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