So the trolls that threaten creative projects with interruptions, distractions and negative thoughts—or perhaps it’s more these critters are invited and then suddenly appear—are on holiday. Try though as I have, I can not spy them anywhere. A few weeks into a new manuscript, that’s a tasty discovery.

Outwardly I’m working as much on this piece as others; nothing changed, yet something is tangentially different. Time spent on this manuscript doesn’t feel like an effort, really, which I feel almost guilty about. And while it is possible there’s only enough steam powering the engine for a short story—maybe a very protracted one, it’s pushing the 20,000 word mark presently—whether it rises into novel territory or not is all right. The story wants out. I’m ducking and getting out of its way.