Life has been so busy lately I've resorted to lugging my laptop back and forth to work just so I can write on my lunch hours. Over the last few days I've opened and closed so many unfinished, half-thought-out stories. I can't even keep count of how WIPs I've looked at. Today, though, I finally got my act together and opened By the Blood.
The beginning was rougher than I had remembered so I spent most of the hour smoothing things out. Deleting and inserting. Rearranging.
I can't even tell you how good it felt to be writing! For a few brief moments, I was me. I was doing what I love and escaping from the daily grind. For those of you who don't write, you may not understand that place, that exact emotion or cognitive awareness. For those of you who do, I have not a single doubt you know what I'm talking about. Those days when the writing, despite it's imperfection, is a blessing.
Of course, lunch hours never last long enough and I didn't accomplish nearly as much as I would have liked. But at least I wrote. That's something.