Annie remembered the two of them arriving in Newtown twenty years ago. She and Jane had walked hand in hand back then as well, but with a bit more trepidation in their heart. Annie had made it an act of defiance and—so she told Jane—PR for everyone who was deemed different from the norm. How could the everyday person ever get used to lesbians walking hand in hand if they never saw any actually doing it?

“Your subversion might get our asses kicked,” Jane had said.

And here they still walked down the same street, twenty years later. The street had changed, and so had they, but plenty of familiarity remained. They had almost reached the university and, as usual when they were on a silent walk, and despite wanting to adhere to an inner stillness Annie knew she needed to cultivate more, she was the one who spoke first. She broached the subject that was easiest for her to talk about.

“As I said before, absolutely no pressure, but I’m curious whether you have started to write again at all.” She used the most gentle tone her voice could muster.

Jane’s grip on her hand slackened a little and even such a minute gesture informed Annie that she had asked the question too soon.

“I want to write so much, but something’s stopping me. It’s as though I can’t follow my own advice, the one I’ve given to every aspiring writer who has ever contacted me. The only way to write is to sit down and just write. I’ve always been convinced that is really all it takes, but now I’m not so sure. I’ve sat down plenty of times with the intention to write and my fingers fail to move over the keyboard. Or I do write something and it’s such utter crap I should not have sat down to write it in the first place.”

“Which is why it might be a good idea to talk about it some more,” Annie insisted. “To understand your creative process better.”

Jane sighed. “I’ve been a writer for two decades. I should know my process by now.”

“I disagree. I mean, the books you write now are a world apart from what you wrote back in the day. If your writing evolves, it’s only normal that your process does as well. And we both know that any kind of evolution doesn’t always involve a straight line from A to B. There are starts and stops.” Annie bumped her shoulder against her wife’s gently. “You know what I think, babe? I think this hiatus is the precursor to something really great. It’s your brain demanding a break so it can get ready to deliver something monumental.”

“I hope you’re right.” There was a hint of relief in Jane’s words.