It is a truth universally acknowledged, that if one smacks his head against the brick wall of writers’ block, he or she should take a break from writing until the muse returns in full force. Otherwise, writing is much like pulling teeth without the use of the proper instruments or anesthetic; incredibly slow and painful. I had been pouring myself into the project of The Quarterdeck Breed, and for four parts, it seemed as if my muse had vanished. It could have had something to do with the approaching holiday season, or perhaps some other personal distraction that I was pulled away from the keyboard so often and just was unable to realy put my heart into my writing. Part Five (Excelsior) was beginning to turn out like the above ill-advised dental procedure, and so I started working on Part Six (Fearless). Getting into the various mindset for each character and situation was beginning to take its toll on me, and the time I thought I had to put into the writing began to evaoprate through December, when I suffered from a bout of tonsillitis. But then, as I was looking through my hard drive and searching some of my older stories that had been left behind in my pursuit through The Quarterdeck Breed, I came upon a half-written short story about a Defiant-class corvette that had lost its captain in the first four paragraphs. It was called Untitled #16, and I knew right then and there that I had found my Part Seven (Gallant). I know it may seem a little odd to work on Part Seven before Part Five, but the truth is that this story is beginning to write itself. I love it when stories write itself, the characters speak and I just put it all down on paper for others to read. That’s how the end of January McKenna came through and it is also how The Face of the Smiling Vulcan began and ended, without a single rewrite or edit. When the wrods flow out of me like blood and splatter into a coherent story… that’s just awesome.

Now, I know what you’re probably thinking. Where in the hell have I been for the past two months? There have been no journal entires since the end of November, and here we are clear into the middle of January without so much as a few phrases of what’s going on. In the middle of November, I sort of started getting myself into a complete contradiction of my New Year’s Resolutions, specifically resolution number five. I beleive that it’s a part of Murphy’s Law, that once you resolve to avoid emotional entanglements, they tend to find you. Perhaps it’s something about the confidence one projects when he or she decides that they don’t need a significant other in order to be happy. I do not honestly know what it could be. Point is that a rather remarkable young woman of my friendship made herself known to me in a more emotional light through not-so-subtle means, and after some soul searching and weighing the risk, I decided that… what the hell. You really only live once, and I’m just not going to play hide-in-my-shell simply because I’ve had some pretty rough relationships in the past. The whole point at experiencing that kind of pain is to make you stronger and to try and not make the same mistakes that you did before. Now, things aren’t really perfect, but I’m enjoying a bit more confidence than I had in the past. I will say that I’m definitely happier than I have been in a long time, and that’s all that matters.

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