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• Artiste: Busman's Holiday
• Titre: Daniel's Lament
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Jamie drove all night only to find herself a little bit too late. Typewriters await; fingers bound to weights that won't let up. I've lost my touch. What will I do? Writers block my mind from ideas to take full shape to manuscript. Ghosts of words I wrote haunt me through the critics notes I find. They're all so kind for my first time. I can't make a boat again finding that the world's not flat but round. Lightning strikes a match. Thunderous crowds approach your house with torches flamed. Failing ambitions; fulfilling expectations of old. Truth be told, I am scared. Set ablaze to books that you are fond of; I'll move on, references gone. One page I must write. "Just get it done tonight so I can sleep," is what I think. I'm on the brink. I can't see you. I won't hear you. I don't need you. I will write this book. Words spit out like rain onto a page that's blank with rage that's not no more. First one took a day. Second one they say is the hardest to write. It's been a fight. I'm almost there. Pam took all Fred had finding the things that made him happy all must pass. Hundred pages down; this book has turned my whole world around. I once was lost, but now am found. I have made a boat again finding that the world's not flat but round.