In sickness and in health . . .

Woke up this morning feeling just awful. Not surprising, since I didn't fall asleep until almost 2 a.m., and I was feeling wretched by midnight.

So I skipped out on the morning's conference sessions. I worked on my novel instead, and I banged out another 2,116 words. Not sure if I quite averaged 1,000 words per hour. Maybe it was only 850 words or so. But I got it done in less than two-and-a-half hours, despite a couple of distractions.

And so far, it's been a joyous journey of discovery. I have no idea where this is heading. Perhaps the evil creature introduced yesterday isn't wholly evil after all. I'm introducing some interesting theories about the curtain between the real world and the supernatural realm.

Right now, I'm just having fun, thoroughly riding the crest of the Week One wave. My creative sails are full, and I'm charging ahead, racking up extra words each day.

Experience--and my virtual cheerleader, Chris Baty, founder of this annual exercise in insanity--tells me this, too, shall pass, and I will soon dread approaching my computer for fear I have long ago eked out the last drop of my creativity.

Perhaps. For now, I'm going with it. Having fun. Writing. Creating. Feeling fulfilled. Despite the fact that my physical body feels like utter crap.

During the last two days, I have been experiencing the writing life. And I love it.