It is hard to nourish One while starving the Other.
Creativity and OCD, that is.
As the storytelling creature inside of me begins to finally stir again, I am tossing a bit of world-building into its bowl to keep it fed.
Nothing elaborate. Little more than a few odd bones of a thing.
But, still, I rarely allow myself such a dangerous pleasure.
World-building is catnip to my OCD. Feeding frenzies are a terrific threat. (Trust me, nothing in my brain needs to be frenzied.)
But what is a mad writer to do?
Is there a balance to be had? Or is there simply danger?
With my luck of late, the answer is the latter.