There is a story I feel circling me. I do believe it is time to birth it. The magic of beginnings is that there is always an ending. A door that has to be sealed in order for truth to come out. In this case a story filled with true color.
Such it is for a writer. The stories are children. You nurture them, feel their personalities, adjust your parenting style accordingly. But before you can raise your stories, you have to let them dream in the womb. You have to be pregnant with them, so they can gestate.
The characters become pieces of you. Each representing some aspect, so perhaps instead of becoming you, you are them already.
So here is to the power of story. And to the truth they reveal...