Through the Fog

I've started the last two mornings with a walk. A workout walk/jog. The afternoons have been so stormy and soupy that I decided, what the heck, I'll just get up and work out before I feed the horses. Before I do anything. Roll out of bed, jump into tights and sneakers, iPod in ears, and let's go. I've been feeling creatively foggy the last couple of weeks, so a change of routine was in order. This morning, ironically, it was literally foggy. Heavy, wet fog, which I love. And I got to watch the sun come up through it.

And my four-legged workout buddy loves to be up early, racing through the dew-slick grass. Or trotting down the driveway.

And what do you know - the brain fog started to recede. Everything makes so much sense early in the morning. Sometimes a little change, a little perspective, can make a big difference.

I'm rewriting my very first novel - the one I wrote while I was still in college. I've talked about it before. It, like its prequel, Made for Breaking, scares the hell out of me. Because it's scary to share it. Because it's the kind of story some people won't take well to. But it's coming along slowly. And even if God Love Her isn't taking shape quickly, I'm so happy with what little I've written of it. Really happy. Starting a new novel is uncertain and iffy most of the time, but not this one. This one feels right this time around. And that has to mean something, doesn't it?