I have to make myself stop writing sometimes or I will literally write until my eyes dry out. I walk away from my laptop several times during the day for productive reasons: figuring out how to get my son’s video game to the next level, changing my daughter’s costume – I mean clothes for the tenth time, reading library books with the kids, folding the never-ending pile of laundry, cleaning up dog vomit, you know, usual stay-at-home mom stuff. But when I have a moment or even half a moment to focus, to really sit down and get in the zone to do some writing, I find that time no longer exists. In the little world that becomes nothing more than me and my laptop and the incredible characters who wait in the anxious wings of my mind to spring forth and continue in the saga of their continuously interrupted lives, I have to force myself to stop at some point. Because it will be morning before I know it. And as wonderful as the altered universe of my laptop and me are and will always be, not even the supernatural demons of my stories will have the energy to go forth once more unless I finally get some sleep. I just hope I can sleep for more than 2 hours before the characters invade my dreams and pull me back downstairs to restart once more their suspended lives.