It all worked like it’s supposed to work today, that is, how it’s supposed to synchronize and develop when I sit down to write fiction. I threw off worries and seized the chapter that began stewing in me when I finished yesterday’s session. Just let it flow, tune out myself, tune out the world and write, write, write.
Forty-five minutes, more or less, as far as I could discern, I’d typed twelve hundred new words in the novel. I can look at it as, not a great amount but I’m still moving forward, or I can look at it as, woo-hoo, twelve hundred more words! Most floods begin with small drops coming together, pooling and flowing, I told myself, seeking to be the optimist.
After writing that chapter – for that’s what this is, the skeleton of the next chapter – I edited and revised it, correcting grammar, spelling, and punctuation, and sometimes making a pacing change or clarifying.
Then, as I read the final lines written, I cackled with quiet delight about what I’d written, because it was just so much fun. The chapter brought everything together as I’d hoped, expected, planned and tried to achieve, but those final lines, they came from somewhere more devious.
Good day of writing like crazy. I hope you all have the same.
Michael Seidel, writer 
How marvelous, Michael, to have such a great writing day and feel so accomplished. ~nan
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Thank you, nan.
It sure is marvelous. Marvelous is the perfect word. When these days happen, they feel more like a holiday or special occasion than anything else has ever felt. I want to go celebrate and bask in the satisfaction of writing something that I enjoyed.
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