In yesterday's post I bitched and moaned about how much I hate writing, and today I take it all back and admit that, after I composed that note to you, I immediately fell headfirst into the writing hole and didn't clamber back out until five o'clock in the afternoon. At the end of the day I possessed a seven-page draft, with a structure and a dramatic arc. It was a miracle. And it goes to show you that I know nothing about the creative process, so do not ask me for advice.

Today I thought I was going to the dentist, but it turns out that I read my calendar wrong (a common side-effect of falling into the writing hole, akin to driving past my own exit or forgetting to pick up my kid from his piano lesson). Instead, I have another day of "write write write," which is to say, anything could happen. Tomorrow I may have to reveal to you that I spent much of the day on the couch watching Star Trek reruns. Or that I decided to hand-wash all of the wool sweaters. Or that I accidentally brought home a puppy.

Anyway today's embarrassment is worth it. Because I have a draft.