Sometimes Writing is Better Than Sex

Especially when you're not writing ABOUT sex.

Yesterday, I tossed out a story premise to my CPs, saying it had been on my mind for awhile, but I'd never known quite how to flesh it out. Now that I've made the acquaintance of the Trues (how we "in" folk refer to the True Magazines), I decided to revisit it--maybe as a short piece for True Story.

Ever helpful, Carol offered some submission suggestions, then added an idea for where the story might go.

WELL.

On the drive home, I thought about what I'd need for an ending. How to bring the story full circle with a bang and a punch.

WELL.

Somewhere between the Reagan Library and the grocery story, I nailed it.

Eager to start writing, I--oops, forgot to do the treadmill thing--sat down to the computer. Oh. My. God. The story FLEW off my fingers. This NEVER happens to me! By the end of the night (with time out for that stupid Pirate show and a little So You Think You Can Dance) I'd written nearly seven pages...AND discovered several NEAT new twists and dimensions. And, guess what? Nary a romantic interlude in sight! (Hm. Maybe that's the key???)

I'm tellin' ya. BETTER than sex.