My friend, Bill was involved in a motorcycle accident, of the injuries that he got, none made him cry except for the fact that he’ll not play the piano.

Not today, but maybe in six months with intensive therapy. He told me this over the phone at 11:23pm yesterday. It was thirty-seven minutes to midnight. He asked “what would you do if you could not write anymore, not because of some stupid accident or careless kids testing their sweet ride, but just waking up one day and you cannot write, what would you do?”

I said, “I don’t know.”

It was a lie. The truth is I would cry until I could cry no more.

Even the thought of not writing is enough to make my fingers shake like they need their fix, but in that moment all I could think of were my favorite Writers. I could think of them locked up in a room staring at blank sheets of paper or screens waiting for the words to come to life for years and then nothing…or having that manuscript turned down by editors and agents for years only to have one person take it up and boom, Harry Potter!

For years, I have heard of Writer’s Block and read so many articles and experiences on having this brick wall you cannot climb over as a Writer, but never experienced the agony that I expected would come of it. I count myself lucky, for if there is a thing as cruel as a stumbling block enough to take me into a depression, then may the heavens keep it away from me- I am unbalanced as it is already.

So, what would you do when the curtain closes?

When you have taken that bow, and the flowers and then you are left with nothing but the silence you begun with?

I don’t know, but what has me thinking about this is the fact that I am ending The Currents Series and after that…what’s next?