An Open Letter to My Creative Process

Dear Creative Process, which I have unfortunately and unforgivably left un-nurtured for a very long time: I know where my faults lie, but what I really want to say is, Go suck the hairy left nut of a sweaty donkey. Seriously.

We've been together for a long time, you and me. We've had some good times and some bad times (more bad times than good, though, if we're going to be honest here), and you've always helped me to come this close to actually achieving something. You've lead me down the lovely garden path to a pile of POO. You leave me high and dry for months and years on end. You show up at completely inopportune times, grab me by the hand and shoot running for the great wide open only to abandon me mid-way, lost in the Sahara Desert of my mind. It's a vapid wasteland in there some days; I have forgiven you for that.

What I cannot forgive is THIS. This terrible unkind injustice will leave me scarred and bitter for the rest of our days together. Because how could you? After two years in Paris - two wonderful, lazy, free-time-filled years, NOW I have inspiration to write a book that takes place there? Now when I am four thousand miles away, left only with library books and google.fr?? Really Creative Process, you suck.

Oh, I'll write the damn book. But you - you can just go lick a baboons hot, red butt cheek. Lick 'em both for all I care. There is just no excuse for your kind. Cruel tricks you play. So cruel...