I see the story unfolding and suddenly someone yells. Woof! Woof! Woof! (It makes sense in book, I promise)
I need to read some more. I usually read constantly, two or three books at a time, but lately I've been painting. When my soul is sad I paint. All other emotions I can write through, but not sadness. For some reason slopping paint on canvas works. Its like blanking my mind out in a way nothing else does. Time ceases, paint heals.
I miss reading. This has gone on way too long. I need to get over the losses and find a way back to what I enjoy.
Maybe then I can see what other writers do about the woof.