I love to write.

I love taking abstract ideas and half formed blob of a mesh of an incomprehensible vibe from my mind onto the paper.

You know how frustrating it is to write?

You know how difficult it is to even have an inkling of the amount of effort that goes into birthing entire _characters_ into round, developed, multi-faceted characters that aren’t boring to read but that leave the reader longing for more every single scene that that character is in – how hard it is to create towns, countries, cities – entire frickin’ _worlds_.

You have to etch the rules of every country into stone from scratch, on your own, every single time – even if it’s not fantasy or sci-fi, any of those speculative genres.

You need to set the _rules_ of your story, of your world, and you know how difficult that is?

And the worst part is, you can go through all these things – set up an amazing exposition, write pivotal, dramatic scenes with ease – and then you come to those transitions, those annoying small things between scenes.

You need to write about a person crossing a room, picking up a piece of paper, writing something down on a desk, or the most _mundane_ things.

Those are impossible.

Those are frickin’ _impossible_ to write, they take up 70% of my time.

It is basically the hardest thing in existence.