I admit, I’m an obsessive personality.  I associate it with my Scorpio energy:

“Scorpios are the most intense, profound, powerful characters in the zodiac. Even when they appear self-controlled and calm there is a seething intensity of emotional energy under the placid exterior. They are like the volcano not far under the surface of a calm sea, it may burst into eruption at any moment. But those of us who are particularly perceptive will be aware of the harnessed aggression, the immense forcefulness, magnetic intensity, and often strangely hypnotic personality under the tranquil, but watchful composure of Scorpio. In conventional social gatherings they are pleasant to be with, thoughtful in conversation, dignified, and reserved, yet affable and courteous; they sometimes possess penetrating eyes which make their shyer companions feel naked and defenseless before them.”

Isn’t that kind of a hot description?  I got it here.  I hope I live up to one tenth of that, (especially “they sometimes posess penetrating eyes which make their shyer companions feel naked and defenseless before them”) but the point is I can be obsessive.  Over everything.  Currently over Godric on True Blood, and, perennially, over my writing.

The benefit of this obsession, however, is it lets me know when my writing is good.  If I get obsessed, its working; if I’m not, it’s cardboard.  And right now I’m hopelessly obsessed with Arianna, to the exclusion of all work, because things just got incredibly tense and the pace is starting to fire off like a rocket into the stratosphere.  I feel like whatever I’m feeling gets written in to the novel, so when I’m obsessing over it, it generally turns out that other people (my select and dear pre-readers) get a little obsessed as well.  My idea for world domination, of course, is to parlay this obsession out into a wider audience, but we’ll see how successful I am at that.

And it’s just so GOOD right now!  (Now, having read Libba Bray’s writing-as-a-love-story rant, I realize I might go back to hating it soon, but there you have it)  There’s a thief, and I love thieves, and the reader just found out who he really was but Arianna still doesn’t know and there was an almost-but-not-really kiss and it’s just so much FUN!  Seriously, this is the real thrill of it, forget being published (well, don’t forget it, just you know, set it aside for right now), forget the money or the potential fans, this is the thrill.  This is why I couldn’t be anything other than a writer.

So, to the exclusion of work, I’m succombing.

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