Often, I wish I could tap into a vein of writing gems, where every word would be polished and sparkle like a diamond. Sometimes, all I find is zirconia or worse: coal. I try not to let this discourage me because even coal can be useful if turned into a heat source or fuel. I feel as long as I can keep even the smallest spark of creativity from flickering out, or I can make it to the next stop down the line, I’ll find more gems of wisdom to keep it going. The more I have, the more rich and rewarding my writing will become. I try to let this thought be my guide. Even when there is just coal in the mine or my canary of cognizance has died.
