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Today I spent an hour sat at my desk. I had sat with the best intentions to get something, anything, written. But not one word materialised. Nothing.

The appearance of a character, that I had at first believed to be quite minor, is in fact a major. The protagonists dad, who she has never met, is a witch; and male witches are very rare in my fictional world. Since his appearance I have been trying  to discover his story- how he came into her mothers life, what happened to him, what he has to do with the story in the here and now- all simple questions, yet I have nothing. Nada, ziltch.

What’s making it all the more frustrating is that the story has a whole seems to have stopped while I’m trying to figure this character out. The setting, characters and plot I’d been working on have upped and vanished from my mind like a fart in the wind. I hope it a temporary disappearance; that they are waiting patiently for me to figure this character out.

It’s a strange sensation though- like what I’m trying to say is on the tip of my tongue; or hiding just outside my peripheral vision. It’s there I just cannot get to it.

Maybe a large glass of wine may invigorate the imagination…………

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