I don’t know if it is endorphins, but the mental workout I get from writing makes me happy, really happy.
For the past few months, I’ve been unable to REALLY write. I’ve sat in front of the computer and typed, I’ve reread what I’ve written, and I’ve plodded along. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I sat there trying to write, everything was flat. In several months, I’d progressed a mere 20 pages in Fair Game.
But this morning, my old way of seeing the story play out in my head finally came back to me. Not at first, of course, that would be too easy. I had to pay my dues with a full hour of dullness in which I almost gave up several times. Then, for some unknown but wonderful reason, the old magic that makes me love writing returned.
I am so glad I persevered, that I didn’t throw in the towel and give up writing entirely. At the end of 3 hours I had finished Chapter 3, and I had liked what I had written.
But even more importantly, at the end of 3 hours of writing I was more energized than I have been in months. I had to control the urge to dance around the house I was so happy. I love being happy.
Euphoria by writing. You can’t beat it!