After several months of crazy making stress and poor sleep (thank you cancer!), I finally had a few hours to concentrate on writing. I had outlined this new project, but had zero time to concentrate and write actual scenes. But yesterday, I wrote for two and a half glorious, painful, difficult, wonderful hours. My hands cramped, my vision blurred, and my stomach knotted from all that coffee, but in the end, I had 750 lovely words.

Yes, 750 words in 2 and a half hours. Not exactly what you’d call productivity, but still… I wrote!

I wrote actual words on my lap top and filled in the rough draft of chapter one of a brand new project. My brain strained with the effort, shaking off apathy and searching for writing skills I’d allowed to atrophy. With each word I typed, I felt more myself. A writer.

But after 2 and a half hours my hands ached and I was forced to stop. That night I had pain in my arms and the following day pain in my shoulders. I’m not used to sitting still, concentrating hard, for that length of time. You might think writing is only a cerebral activity, but writing includes arm muscles, hand muscles, straining eyes and a numb butt. Just like any activity, you have to work up to the marathon hours.

I’m eager to lock myself away somewhere for several days and write. First, I need to work my body up to that much typing and writing. Today, i am in training. I’m writing the rough draft of my new novel. Painful, awful… even the writing is strained. In a few months, I’ll be ready to put in hours each day on the first draft. That is my favorite time. Writing hour after hour until I enter the zone. That’s what I call bliss.