Oh, glory! It's been one of those days that I pray for as a writer. Where everything goes swimmingly, where words come out like I've got a typewriter attached to my neurons, and where loose ends start knitting back together.
It's been too long since I've had one of these days. Last night I whined to my husband about my writerly woes, in real adult style, whimpering about my general stupidity, my stilted dialogue, my characters who refuse to talk to me. I have been carrying around this story for months, nuzzling it, prodding it, poking it...and like a dinosaur egg, it just stubbornly refused to crack.
Today, it didn't just crack, I heard peeping!
The monster is loose...and if I have any luck, I'll have another couple of 3,000 word days that will propel me in the right direction, when inevitably the muse will decide it's high time for me to have to work for my words again.
Until then, I accept this gift of energetic prose. Lead on, my quirky little brain friend...