If Qin Shi Huang, the thin-mustached first emperor of China, can unite warring states, slaughter his half-siblings, exile his parents, ingest mercury pills for years and still exist, then surely I can finish these extra 500 words, put an end to this long-suffering chapter, and dot a period after the final sentence in a novel or two.
Yeah. Occasionally megalomaniac warlords give me that extra push to write.
There’s also something very writing-inducing about polished bronze weaponry and book burnings in support of Totalitarian dogma. Happy Irony Day?
Who inspires your writing?
Millie’s Note: Pillaging is bad. Usually.