After a bitter winter, spring is finally here. Gloomy piles of foul, blackened snow on the roadsides have melted away. Sun is out and the cherry and pear trees are already budding.
Also budding in my mind are new story ideas and plot twists of novels already half-written. Soon, I’ll write these stories and complete the half-written drafts. Soon, I’ll rewrite them and revise them.
I can close my eyes and visualize: a writer intoxicated by the sight of steam swirling from a cup of coffee next to a stack of new manuscripts.
I love spring, the season of aspiration.