I was excited, way back at the beginning of the month, for Script Frenzy. I mean, I was doing other writing, but this was different, kooky, fun.

Did pretty well that first week, getting 31 pages in. At that pace I should have finished the script (100 pages) last week.

But my other writing kept - um, intruding. And a story that had been percolating since the beginning of the month just exploded out of me this past friday. Kind of strange - since the 24th, I've written - um, let me check - 24,651 words. In five days. And I'm not written out yet, either. I've still got a lot of story left to tell.

For the first time in my life, I'm waking up and writing. Eating breakfast, and going back to write. Making dinner, after powering everything down. And an hour later I'm powering everything back up to write. It's the way I always thought I'd write. It's only taken me, what, 8 years to get here.

And you know what? I love this story. I don't care if it sells, at this point I'm writing it for me. I can't see anyone else being interested, really.

But I'm having a blast. Still kind of overwhelmed about it. And not feeling bad at all that I'm not going to finish script frenzy this time around.

I'm, uh, kind of busy right now. And it feels fabulous.