For the first time in a long time, I sat down last night with my red pen (found one!) and my notebook (that's been sitting by my chair untouched since I started a day-job) and...
I wrote words!
It wasn't a huge amount of words, but I filled a page with genuine fiction.
You see, I had a funny little germ of an idea the night before (also something that hasn't happened in a while) and I thought I'd noodle around with it. I sat my butt in my comfy recliner and started to write. By the bottom of the page, my hand was pretty tired... damned atrophy... but I have the beginnings of a story. Yay.
It's weird. It's entirely possible no one will ever read it. Then again, it might be good and if it is, I might know of a place who may be interested in it. If they're not, it'll be a short story to sell on Amazon.
But that's a long ways off. The important thing is I WROTE WORDS!
YAY!
Oh, and something else that hasn't happened in a long time... I lay in bed last night thinking about the story and what to write next. I should've gotten up and written in down because it's most likely in tatters of memory now. :shrug: No matter. I was thinking about stories and writing. Also YAY.
I can't wait to see what happens next.


