So my slump, my writer’s block, if you will, just ended. As I start writing this, it’s 11:19pm, 10th August. As someone who’s long been a mild insomniac, the prospect of being up all night is something I’d prefer to avoid, but doesn’t necessarily terrify me as much as it used to.

I’ve got ideas. Like, a LOT of ideas. So many ideas. The best ideas. Believe me.

The thing is, they always seem to come at the most inconvenient times. It’s when you don’t know what to do or where to go with your writing and then suddenly everything falls into place. Here I am, minding my own business, having a shower before bed, and then the ideas come thundering down like a stack of books against my head.

It’s as if the gears in my head have been jammed, and something’s just slapped me and knocked it loose. Now, with all the pressure built up behind them, my brain’s sprinting ahead to catch up for lost productivity and time.

This has happened before. Usually I’m stubborn enough (or wise enough?) to ignore these inconvenient feelings and push myself off to sleep. I almost did. Almost.

Thing is, I’m becoming more used to listening to myself. To my ‘heart’, so to speak. I want to write. A lot. I’m not limited to genre, to single stories, to single ideas or characters or backgrounds or locations. I feel boundless. Except maybe scripts. I don’t know about those.

The point is, we’re often afraid to really let ourselves go free with the things that we want to do. We think that we should just do the logical thing all the time, but there are times in my life when I’ve done that and it’s hurt me, and when I’ve ignored it and it’s turned out for the better.

Sometimes your heart is right. I’m not going to make judgements about whether your heart or your brain is usually correct, just now. I’ll work with what I’ve got at the moment.

I’m inspired. I’m moving, active. I’m making some progress. Tonight. Maybe I’ll be blocked up again tomorrow, who knows? I might wake up and not write for two, three weeks.

I know now that I need to write while I can. There is my health to consider, naturally, but I can afford to wake up later tomorrow. I can afford to be tired tomorrow. It’s a Saturday, after all.

If I want to be published, though, if I want to really get my writing happening, I need to give in to these moments sometimes. I need to be able to let myself say yes. I need to write when my heart is bursting to, when it is least convenient. How else will my dreams come true?

The time now is 11:28pm. The time to make dreams happen is now. The future will be too late. So while I can, while I still have time, I’ll write. I can write all night if I need to. Tomorrow is a Saturday.