Downhill sort of day

There are days when I write that everything goes smoothly.

Not many. But some.

The longer I write, the more I relish those days because they are actually few and far between. I don't know if they're getting fewer and farther between, or if it just seems that way.

Many days, when the characters don't cooperate or the editor's voice in my brain is too loud to write over, getting the words down is like banging my head against the wall. It's nice when I stop, but that's about the only good thing I can say for it.

And then there are those rare days like today.

Today reminded me how much fun writing a book can actually be -- when all the words fall into place, when the characters talk and don't veer off the topic, making pronouncements about the history of cheese or the phases of the moon. It feels as if I've reached the top of the hill and am sailing down fast. The pages are piling up.

Days like this are wonderful. They are a gift. They are certainly worth celebrating.

So I'm celebrating tonight. And, of course, hoping that whatever happened today happens again tomorrow.

Greedy? No. But endlessly hopeful.

And typing with all fingers crossed.