The life of a writer with candles  exemplifies my notion that as the flame gently sways so goes my prose. Have you ever really gazed into the center of the flame and acquiesced to the aura? It paralyzes yet inspires. It suspends reality yet spawns a mindfulness to the moment. I write with a candle for those very reasons. This Thursday, the Nineteenth of January, 2017, I have finished the first re-writes of my eighth book, but now turn to the daunting task of another version of The Penny, My reasoning is probably flawed, but as positive as the pre-reads have been, I’m not having much luck in New York. The book is ready. It is a wonderful story looking for a next-level editor with connections to the Big Show – The New York Times Bestseller list. As I wrestle with the indemnification of my writing career, I challenge myself everyday to continue. There have been high points, low points and everything on the spectrum in between, thus the candle. If lit, I’m working; not simply working but creating. And as the evening and nights of winter progress, my conditioning to the candle during the day offers creative vision anywhere I may find the dancing of the orange, blue and white mystery. I’ve added to the life of a writer on Thursdays by including a new scotch, purchased for me by friends and fans, and a dark chocolate for a rich finish on the palate. Life in Petoskey, Michigan on the shores of Little Traverse Bay and Lake Michigan is peaceful today. I have a candle and I have a story. The journey continues.