So I didn’t write during the day.

And then the in-laws were here this evening.  Until Margie loaded them into the car to head off to the airport.

And then I fiddled around a bit.

And browsed a bit.

And …

Started writing.

And wrote.  And rolled along.  And wondered how I was going to get through the scene, and where the situation was taking me.

And Margie returned, and I was still writing.

And I did a word count.  49,999.  I kid you not.

“Are you done yet?” Chrys whispered in a harsh tone.

“Just about,” I said.

And I wrote some more. And …

Huzzah! If I do say so myself.

Now, the story isn’t finished. But unlike last year, I actually have an idea of what’s happening between here and there.  And I think I can actually get it done.

And I want to.