Look! Um...I think they call that writing....

So, after wrestling with the writing beast for days on end, I myself was tackled by the self-same beast.

I've been agonizing over my workshop challenge. A month ago, the workshop decided that for our November 4 meeting, we had to write a story of no more than 2,000 words that included masks and leaves. Well, I came up with a story idea that, in the end, will be faaaar longer than 2,000 words. I continue to hammer at it, but it's no longer my challenge idea.

My new challenge? What to write for the challenge. Well, on Sunday, in the wake of markbourne's housewarming, I went to dinner with amy_thomson, her husband and their scarily, impressively articulate 6-year-old daughter. Somehow the adults got into talking about someone who once meant a great deal to me who passed away a couple of years ago. Last night, as I tucked myself in bed, I suddenly realized that there was a kernel of a story idea in that episode of my life and . . . voila! I'm 800 words into my ~2,000 words for tomorrow night. Not genre. I don't know if I'm self-impressed enough to call it literary, but it will be the first thing I've written in years that I'd even attempt to send to The New Yorker when it's done.

Now, trouble: I'm committed to seeing "Goodnight and Good Luck" tonight with the lovely varina8 and the talented ironymaiden. When I plan to finish this little darling of a story is debatable. It will get done, but I suspect it will be in time I steal from sleeping.

Yes, this should be entertaining.