Maybe twice in my life I’ve sat down with an idea in my head and written a solid first draft of a story from start to finish without stopping. You know how it is: one piece of the puzzle slides right into its place and you look at the pile of pieces and can immediately see the bit that fits next to it. You don’t know how it happens. You haven’t done anything differently this day than all those days before. You just started something, and everything you did segued into the next connecting task smoothly, one after another.

It happened to me again today.

Pity I was cleaning out the refrigerator rather than writing the part of my book that happens after chapter 3.

Maybe it’ll happen again tomorrow. With writing I hope, though, not with polishing silver or cleaning the tile grout.