I made an error in my timing. I waited until too late to ask whether the biggest story of the day, which was not my own, was fit for public consumption. Until I get the go-ahead to tell it, suffice it to say that this year of big financial hits just keeps coming. It is not amusing, not in the least.
I think I've used up all of my words for the day. I hit my quota somewhere in the four handwritten notebook pages covered in my small script, of the summary of the latest story I'm working on. It has been tumbling through my mind for more than a month, maybe two now. I have been getting incrementally closer to having the plot line worked out in my head. Today, in the shower, I had a breakthrough, and had to sit down and write for hours. This was the most productive day for this story in weeks. I really want to keep going on it, but it's after midnight, and I am too tired to be coherent. If I wrote this late and this tired, I'd end up looking at it tomorrow and wonder what any of it meant.
At least I can feel like I accomplished something worthwhile today, when I realize that the story sucked away most of my day, and I never went farther outside than the front and back porches. Maybe if I spend several more days like this, I'll have a full-length, fleshed out story to tell.
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