I’m closing in on the halfway point of my challenge: Monday will be Day 50 out of 100. The experience feels incredible, and at the same time, it feels strangely effortless.

It’s been a long, long time since I wrote this much. Late in the winter of 2006, when I first rediscovered writing and fan fiction, I dove in. I wrote for hours every night, reveling in the joy of story. I posted my first story in the library of a now-defunct fansite on May 30, 2006, and for the next year, I posted a new story every two weeks. In fact, I spent so much time writing that I fell behind in my billable work and my income dropped significantly. It was like an addiction: I’d be working on a brief, and I’d have a thought about a story in process and I’d open it up, just for a quick look. Two hours later, I’d be no further along on the brief, but the scene I’d edited was much deeper.

It couldn’t last, of course. Eventually, I had to cut back. My ability to keep a roof over my head and food in the cat dishes depended on it. I still wrote almost daily, but my pace slowed from near-frantic to manageable. Still, I relied on writing in the summer of 2007 when a dear friend was dying of ovarian cancer, writing several substantial stories in between cleaning her house, giving her husband a break by staying with her overnight so he could sleep, and eventually staying with her overnight in the hospital during her final week. Writing was at once my escape and my way of processing the experience of watching someone I loved die. Those nights are still vivid in my mind. Had I not been able to write, I have no idea how—or whether—I’d have been able to cope.

Fast forward seventeen(!) years to the present time. This is literally the first time since those early fan fiction days when I’ve written this easily for any kind of extended period, when the story has flowed and my biggest concern is making sure I’m in the recliner around 9:45 p.m. so I can write my 1,000+ words before the 11:00 news. (I ran late tonight because I was doing quick research into a few bits, but I did wrap up in time to catch the weather.)

It turns out that keeping my head in the story this deeply has a downside. Last night, I tried to go to bed early (for me), but within a minute of turning out the light, I had to turn it back on because my mind was racing and I needed to write down an idea. This happened twice more within the next five minutes. I had to make a conscious effort to think of other topics so I could work around to quieting my mind for sleep. If anyone was watching my house, they probably wondered why the light kept going on and off, but they’ll never guess the real reason.