Mike

The Sock Affair is near completion. I am currently writing the final chapters. Damn, but it's been a long time coming. It's been seven years since I thought of the idea from the question: where do the missing socks go, the ones that you can't find after doing a load of laundry? I was twenty-one years old, about to drop out of college (for the first of the total six times). I was about to start my writing 'career.'

I would put the story on the backburner. Hell, I'd dump the contents and wash the pot. I would rewrite it over and over. I would push it aside and work on something new, some fresh story or other, while it sat looking at me, waiting. It knew I would come back to it.

But, I'm about to finish it now. Four more chapters, all of which I know exactly how to write. Knowing where to end was never a problem for me...it was always where to start, and how, that tied my fingers in knots, that gave me doubt.

Here's to the demise of the dustbunnies! Here's to the home stretch!